Caught In A Bad Romance
by Fangoddess
Summary: Serena is sweet, feminine, everything Nate desires in a woman but he suspects she's playing games.No way would she allow a man to call the shots in a relationship.Or would she? Serena sees in Nate the strong, dominant man she needs but he seems determined to keep her at a distance.So she takes matters into her own hands to prove to him it's no game she's playing. Rated M for smut.
1. Chapter 1

** Hey guys, I was reading the Sweet series by Maya Banks the Crossfire series by Sylvia Day and I thought why not cross them over with Gossip Girl! This fan- fiction is set in Manhattan in the "Gossip Girl" world as in Gossip Girl still exists. Serena is a section editor in The Spectator and secretly crushing on Nate who has been her friend since early childhood. They're both attracted to each other but are hesitant to do anything about it due to their history. I must warn you that it's dark and smutty and contains threesomes, BDSM, rapes and other adult themes. Hope you enjoy it. XOXO ;)**

* * *

Setting her drink aside, Serena slid into the chair and moved the mouse to bring up the screen. She opened her browser.

Now, what to search? She sat there a long moment, staring at the empty search field. What was she looking for? Did it have a name, this nebulous craving twisting inside her?

Maybe she should be Binging "what to do when you lost your freaking mind". Finally she opted to type in a variety of words. Maybe by narrowing her choices, if she were really lucky, she'd actually get one or two sites that weren't porn.

_ Dominance. Control. _Hmmm. What else? Oh wait, back up. _Male Dominance. Control. Submission? _No, that just sounded wrong. Okay, so she'd just go with _Male Dominance _and _Control _for now.

Oh, geez. Research statistics. Was this actually a research topic? Maybe she could find a hunky professor willing to bend her over and ohhh the possibilities. It was like she was in boarding school all over again, she shoved the thought away.

She wasn't in boarding school anymore and neither was she a kid. She was twenty one years old and a section editor in The Spectator, but why was she feeling like she was doing something illegal? She started scrolling faster, trying to outrun the erotic images swimming in her head.

Spanking. Tied hand and foot. A man having complete power over her. Bending her, making her submit. Taking care of her.

And there was the man she had in her mind. Nate.

She sighed as she clicked through countless useless pages. Impatient, she typed in another series of search words. _Dominance. Control. Bondage._

At least these looked more promising. She scanned the topics and clicked on a few of the offerings. Her brow furrowed as she began reading about female submission.

Honestly, she'd never considered herself a submissive person. Yeah, she wanted a strong man. Someone who didn't have to ask. Who was confident enough to act. But did that make her submissive?

She wrinkled her nose. Well, it wouldn't hurt to read up on it. At least then she'd have a better idea of what she really wanted.

She clicked until her finger was numb. Read well into the night, her eyes glued to both the fascinating and the downright bizarre. Honestly, she had no idea there were so many people out there who shared her desires, and certainly not so many women. But strangely, it didn't make her feel any less perverted.

She heaved a sigh as her tired eyes perused yet another listing. Just as she was ready to give it up for the night, an ad on one of the pages caught her eyes.

She leaned closer. Chelsea. The address was Chelsea. Exclusive, _private_, members-only club. "Specializing in themes of dominance, bondage and a variety of fetishes for sane people. Check website for weekly parties and events," Serena read.

One of her eyebrows went higher. Intrigued, she clicked on the ad and was transferred to a surprisingly sophisticated website. Not your average trashy porn site high on shock value.

It was discreet, a website that could host a variety of different businesses. Subdued colors. Easy on the eyes. No pop-ups or flashing little boxes screaming that you just won an iPod.

Her pulse fluttered as she read on. Membership was exclusive and only open to a limited number each year. Security was a high priority, and the "club" wasn't a flashy, neon-sign-bearing business in the heart of Chelsea's downtown. Instead, it was a stately home in the west side. Big wrought-iron gates. High security fences. No sign advertising what went on behind closed doors.

Basically a meeting place for like-minded individuals. She shivered. Could it be that easy? Somehow she doubted it. But where else was she going to start her search? Her cursor hovered over the telephone number listed on the site. She reached for the cordless phone she kept by the computer and turned it on.

For several long seconds, she listened to the dial tone. When it started its obnoxious loud beeping to let her know it was still on and she wasn't dialing, she turned it off and stared at the computer monitor.

Then she turned the phone back on. And off. And on. Christ, what could possibly be so bad about calling the place? It wasn't like they could reach through the phone, snatch her bald and leave her tied up and naked on the floor.

She touched the phone to her forehead and closed her eyes. Just do it, Serena_. _Don't be a chicken. You just want information. They wouldn't even know your name.

Taking a deep breath, she quickly dialed the series of numbers. She put the phone to her ear and squeezed her eyes shut in dread. Maybe they wouldn't answer.

Her stomach gave a painful lurch when a smooth male voice offered a greeting.

"Hello?" he said again when she didn't respond right away.

"Uh, hello," she offered, barely able to squeeze the words from her lips. "I was calling for some information. I mean, I saw your club, uh, your establishment on the internet."

"What's your name?" the man asked cheerfully.

Damn. She guessed they would know her name after all. So much for being Serena Van Der Woodesen. Damn Gossip Girl. What if the man knew her?

"It's Ser- Sabrina," she said, not volunteering her last.

"Hi, Sabrina. My name is Damien, and I'll be happy to answer whatever questions you may have."

She relaxed a teeny bit. "Well, the thing is, you see, I'm not sure what questions to ask."

"Ah. Okay then let me ask _you _a question."

"Oh. Okay. I guess."

"What is it you hope to find at our establishment?"

"Not much of a loaded question," she muttered.

Damien chuckled, "Don't be shy, Sabrina. There isn't anything you could possibly say that would shock me or make me judge you. I can't help you if you aren't honest with me."

Her mouth went dry. Moment of truth. How to tell a complete stranger what it was she was looking for when she wasn't completely sure herself?

"I want," She sucked in another deep breath and started over. "I want a man to take control. Take. Not ask. In all aspects. Not just sexually," she broke off, but still Damien waited, as if sensing she wasn't yet done. "I want to be taken care of," she finished softly.

"You want to be dominated."

The word still made her uncomfortable, but in essence, that was precisely what she wanted. So she muttered a low agreement.

"There's no reason to feel shame for your desires," Damien said gently. "A woman who knows who she is and what she wants is the most beautiful of creatures."

The compliment brought a delighted smile to her face until she realized she was giddy over a phone call with a stranger who, for all she knew, could be getting himself off while listening to her fantasies.

She cringed at _that _mental image.

"Membership is very exclusive here and offered sparingly. If you like, you can set up an appointment time to come and tour our facility. Once you've seen what we have to offer, then you can make a decision as to whether you'd like to pursue membership within our confines."

She swallowed the knot growing in her throat. "I'd like that."

"Fair warning. If you come, you should know what you're getting into. This won't be a trip through the halls of the manor where you'll look at empty rooms and unused furniture. You'll come at our busiest time. And you'll see all."

Her eyes widened, and she wondered just what _all _she would see. Her heart was racing, and she realized she was excited. Looking forward to the tour.

"When can we set it up?" she asked.

"I can show you around Friday starting at 11 PM. Things tend to get started late around here. If you give me your e-mail address, I'll send you detailed directions and the address."

Serena gave him her e-mail, and they confirmed her appointment time. She thanked him for the information, and they rang off. She dropped the phone on the desk and leaned back, puffing her cheeks out and blowing a long, hard breath.

Friday. Eleven o'clock. She let out a small groan. She had two days to do nothing but wonder about what she'd see.

She licked her lips nervously then smoothed a hand over her bubbling stomach. What the hell had she gotten herself into? And worse, she couldn't wait to find out.


	2. Chapter 2

Serena bopped around the office with ill-contained excitement. She was nervous, excited and petrified, all rolled into one, about her appointment tonight. Sex on the brain made for some interesting daydreams, and she could only be grateful it had been a slow day in the office.

The sexual tension between her and Nate simmered like a cauldron, and it made her even more determined and anxious to explore her most secret desires. He brought out every lustful fantasy she'd ever thought of, and even some she hadn't.

She wanted him. That was certainly not one of her most secret desires. There was nothing secret about it. And he'd have to be awfully thick not to realize she wanted to have sex with him. But. There was always a but.

She wanted a strong, masterful man. From all outward appearances, Nate was that man. He talked the talk, but then she'd had a few talkers in the past. They'd promptly fizzled in bed and out.

_ Which is why you're going tonight. To identify, to own, to take what you want_. She sensed this was the first big step, and once she embraced this change, this desire to be her own person, there would be no looking back.

She emitted a tiny sigh as she arranged a pile of articles on her desk. Then she logged onto the internet and opened an e-mail from Damien, the man who'd set up her appointment.

They'd actually exchanged several e-mails since her phone call a few nights ago. He had put her at ease with his friendly, open attitude. He'd encouraged her to ask questions and in return had given her a wealth of information about what went on in the club and also what she could expect from her tour.

In one of her sillier moments, she'd e-mailed Damien to ask what she should wear. Because if she was expected to wear a black rubber suit with and a collar, they could all go to hell.

She skimmed over the e-mail, smiling at the reminder that the environment she was entering tonight would be raw and explicit. She felt an excited tingle all the way down to her toes.

She was reasonably prepared for her visit. Or so she imagined. She'd scoured countless sites on the internet, researched all the links that Damien had sent her, and she'd even worked up the nerve to sneak into Chuck's apartment and raid his porn collection. She'd certainly gotten an eyeful. Apparently soft porn wasn't in Chuck's vocabulary.

She grinned as she mentally went over the list she'd compiled of scenarios and positions she wanted to try. All she needed now was a willing partner, and maybe a better understanding of the need driving her. Which she hoped Damien and company could shed some light on.

She spun around in her seat, feeling just a little giddy and more than a little ridiculous. She slapped her hand down on the desk to stop her motion when the phone rang.

Stifling a giggle, she reached for the phone. "The Spectator," she said breathily.

"Serena!" her mother's animated voice rang through the phone, "Change of plans."

Oh god, this can't be good.

Forgoing any attempt to pretend like this wasn't her, Serena gripped the phone tighter, "Mom, haven't I told you not to call on this line unless it's code red? I'm trying to be professional."

She started to peel the phone away from her ear when Lily continued, "Drop the act, darling. Nate is your boss and I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

"Mom, what do you want?" Serena cut to the chase.

"The trip got preponed. Bart and I are leaving to Morocco tomorrow. It's nothing you need to concern yourself with except we think it would be great to see you at home tonight. Chuck, Blair and Eric are attending the diner too."

"Attending? Mom! I have other plans!" Familiar annoyance settled over Serena, crowding her mind with a lifetime of regrets. Her mother would never change. Serena had to accept that. She _had _accepted it, but it didn't make it any easier to acknowledge.

"Oh I'm sure you can cancel them and I just invited Nate. He was delighted. Said he'd bring you along," Lily began only to be interrupted by another voice. Serena strained to hear. It was Bart. Perfect.

"Yes honey, she'll be here for dinner," Lily said cheerfully, "See you tonight, darling." The line went dead.

"Fuck!" Serena groaned and buried her face in her arms on the desk. A firm hand gripped her shoulder, and she stiffened.

"Serena, what's wrong?" Nate asked concerned.

Slowly, she pulled her head up, suddenly feeling foolish for her undisciplined emotional outburst.

Her chair moved slightly, and she glanced over out of the corner of her eye to see him kneel beside her.

Gentle fingers curled around her chin and tugged, forcing her to look directly at him.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

Another groan escaped her mouth and she clamped her lips shut to prevent any more from escaping.

"No, you're not all right. That's obvious," he stroked the back of his knuckles over her cheek then tucked her hair behind her ear. "What's wrong?" he asked again.

"It's nothing," she said hiding her frustration. "Really. I feel like such an idiot. I just got upset and overreacted."

"Let me guess. You just got off the phone with your mom."

Of course, Nate knew everything about her.

"Not bad, Archibald," she smirked, "I heard you got the golden ticket too."

He smiled, "Yeah. I did as a matter of fact and I offered to be your date."

Date? Did he just ask her on a date? Their gazes met and hung, suspended in a timeless echo.

"I understand if you would rather go alone," he added, "You told me Lily was worried you weren't dating. I thought it would get her off your back for a while if she saw us together."

"What?" she asked confused, "You mean you just want to go as friends?"

"Yes."

"Wow, Nate. You want to go as friends. That's just- friends?" Serena couldn't help but look hurt.

Instead of responding, he edged closer to her, his lips hovering precariously close to hers. Her sudden intake of breath was all she had time for before their mouths met.

His hands framed her face as he pressed hot and hard against her. Their tongues met and tangled. She gasped for air but wouldn't pull away. It consumed her. _He _consumed her. His mouth inched upward until his teeth nipped and caught at her upper lip. He pulled outward then sucked it farther into his mouth. His tongue licked her lips before he released it and moved to the corner of her mouth. Forgotten was her hurt, her. All that existed in this moment was the man in front of her.

His touch, his kiss, his very essence wound around her, filling her until everything else vanished. She reached for him, sliding her hands over his broad shoulders. Her fingers inched toward his neck until one hand cupped the nape of his neck, pulling him closer. She nibbled back at his lips.

A moan built deep in her chest, welled in her throat, until it escaped in a sound of sweet agony. The tension between them that had, over the last few days, built into an enormous entity, exploded in a rush of molten lava.

She moved her hands in front, down his chest until she tugged at his shirt. She wanted to feel his skin. Impatiently, she yanked until it came free from his jeans. Then she slid her fingers under the hem and pressed her hands to his stomach.

He flinched, his mouth stilling over hers. Her hands worked higher, gliding over the muscles of his chest, shoving his shirt upward.

His fingers dug into her golden hair, and his thumbs brushed over her cheeks. There was strength in his touch. A strength she craved, needed, wanted so badly she ached.

She whimpered against his lips when they didn't resume the passionate kiss but instead remained still. His body tensed underneath her fingers, the muscles rippling across his chest.

"Nate," she whispered.

He pulled away and closed his eyes. A harsh expletive danced in the air between them, souring the moment. His hands fell away from her, and he pushed himself upward.

His palm crept to the back of his neck, and he rubbed up and down in agitation, "God, Serena, I'm sorry. That should have never happened."

She looked at him in confusion. "Sorry? I wanted it to happen. You wanted it to happen. I don't see what you have to be sorry about."

He stalked around the desk, pausing in the middle of the floor, his movements jerky and indecisive. Then he turned to look at her. His eyes blazed with a multitude of emotions. Desire still flamed brightly, so she knew it wasn't a matter of him not wanting what had happened. But there was also regret, and fear?

"This shouldn't have happened," he said with a shake of his head.

She rose from her seat. Her knees trembled, and she placed her palms down on the desk to steady herself. "We've been working up to this point for the last several days. You know it, and I know it. It was as inevitable as breathing. Don't tell me it shouldn't have happened when I know damn well you wanted it as much as I did."

"Wanted it?" he gave a short laugh, "Hell, Serena, I want you so bad, I ache. But it shouldn't have happened. I never should have let it."

With that, he turned and stalked out of her office, leaving her to ponder the sheer oddity of his statement.

She sagged back into her chair, her emotions a rioting mess. Her gaze flickered over to the telephone cord, and she heaved a sigh. Pushing herself upward, she went over to retrieve the cord she'd yanked in her fit of annoyance. No telling how many calls she'd missed while she was trading heavy breathing with her boss.

This had to end. Maybe Nate wasn't what she needed. Maybe what she wanted was out there, just out of reach, but close. Maybe she'd find it tonight. She wouldn't know until she took the leap. Feeling moderately calmer after her earlier fit of rage, she squared her shoulders and made a silent vow to herself. She wasn't going to the dinner tonight.


	3. Chapter 3

** Hello lovelies! Thank you very much for the reviews. Here's Chapter 3! Cheers! :) **

* * *

Nate sat in his office feeling like a complete moron. Serena was off limits. He had already been there once with her and she had dumped him. He wasn't going back there again unless she made it crystal clear that she wanted him.

He could literally feel his heart thump every time she looked at him. It was like he was a junior again and she was his popular sophomore crush. But it was Serena. She was probably everybody's crush and she was too rebellious for his taste.

After his flings with Catherina and Diana, he had figured out what he really wanted in a relationship. He was sick of being strung along and bossed over. He wanted to call the shots and he was convinced it would never be possible with Serena.

If he was truly convinced of this, why then did he picture Serena's gorgeous smile, remember the feel of her skin against his, her lips on his? And why did he want more? It was late and the office was deserted. He wondered if Serena had already left for the dinner.

He shoved back from his desk, stood, then headed for the door. Damn, he had fucked up. Serena had left but he could still feel her lingering presence in the snug confines of her office.

Moving swiftly, he walked around her desk in the darkness and turned on the small desk light. May be he should just call Lily and cancel, he considered as he picked up the phone.

"Serena, darling!" came the voice just as cheerful as always, "I hope you're not calling to cancel!"

"No, Lily, it's me," Nate smiled despite himself, "I feel terrible cancelling but there's a meeting with the sponsors tomorrow and-"

"Oh, don't be silly, Nate, Of course I understand," Lily cut him off.

"Next time," Nate offered.

"Of course, yes," Lily's voice came muffled, "Eric, is that champagne? I hope Charles didn't put you up to this!"

Nate rolled his eyes and stilled as his gaze flickered across Serena's open day planner. He hung up, straining to read the entry circled in red_. The House 9 PM. Friday night_. It was written on today's date, and below was an address in Chelsea.

The name was familiar to him, and he searched his memory for why. He could swear it was the name of the kink club Chuck had gone on about. But why on earth would Serena be making plans to visit if they were one and the same?

He opened her drawer and yanked out a pen and a piece of paper from a notepad. He scribbled the address down then closed the drawer again. After turning the light off, he hurried back to his own office where he turned his computer on.

He drummed his fingers impatiently as he waited for it to boot. As soon as the screen lit up with his desktop icons, he clicked on the browser and went to a search engine page.

There, he typed in the name and address he'd lifted from Serena's planner and waited for the results. When he clicked on the first link, he bit out a curse. Serena's _House _and Chuck's were one and the same. Somehow Nate knew that Serena wasn't a regular member, because surely that wouldn't have escaped Chuck's notice.

What the fuck was she doing making an appointment at a freaking kink club? Did she not have a clue what went on there? Hell, he'd never set foot in the place, but the things Chuck had talked about were more than enough to paint a vivid picture in Nate's mind of what happened behind those big wrought-iron gates.

Which could only mean she had no idea what she was getting into and the idea of another man with her made him feel slightly murderous. He didn't even want to get into the whys and wherefores of that particular quirk.

"Christ," Nate muttered. "Get a grip."

He ought to call Chuck and let him and Blair deal with it. But as quickly as that thought popped into his head, he tossed it aside. He wasn't a kid busting a gut to run and tattle, for God's sake. Serena was a grown woman. Maybe she was doing a little experimenting. No need to embarrass her by having her step brother haul her out of the place.

Which left him. No way he could let her walk into that kind of situation. She was sweet. Far too innocent for the likes of what a place like that offered its patrons. Shit, knowing his luck, she'd end up as someone's damn sex slave for the night.

That thought propelled him to his feet. He was out the door in a few seconds. He fumbled with the security codes on his way out before he strode out to the parking lot and got into his car.

He flipped open his cell phone and punched in Chuck's number. The damn club was exclusive, and he couldn't get in without Chuck's help. Hell, he might not get in anyway but he was damn sure he would try.

"Nathaniel!"

"I need you to get me into The House or whatever the fuck it is you call it," Nate hissed as he raced out of the parking lot.

"I thought you had a meeting with sponsors in the morning. Does working late turn you on?" Chuck sounded amused.

"Not me, Chuck. Apparently Serena has an appointment there. As we speak."

There was a brief pause, "Whoa! Wait a minute. Serena is going to The House?"

"That's what I've been trying to tell you," Nate said impatiently, "Is there any way you can get me in? Pull some strings or something?"

Chuck ignored Nate's question, "What the fuck is she doing going there? That's no place for her."

Nate threw up his hands and growled in frustration as the traffic lights turned red.

"Okay, okay, look," Chuck said, "Give me a minute. I'll head over there to see what the fuck is going on."

"No!" Nate was losing his mind, "I'll go. You just get me in there," he said emphatically, "Besides, I don't think Serena has talked to Blair about it. I'll take care of her."

Chuck sighed, "What the hell is going on between you and Serena?"

Nate zoomed through the traffic. They were wasting a hell of a lot of time. "Nothing is going on between me and Serena. I was just concerned when I learned where she was going. I don't think she has a clue what she's getting into. I don't want to see her get hurt."

"You head over there," Chuck said, "I'll call over and arrange for you to get in. I'm close with the guy who owns it."

Nate felt a little foolish making such a big deal out of this, and he'd risked looking like an even bigger fool by calling like this, but he couldn't shake the feeling that Serena was in way over her head.

* * *

Serena pulled up to the gate guarding the driveway to the large house. When she drew abreast of the small security box, she rolled down her window and leaned out to push the button.

"Can I help you?" a polite voice inquired.

She breathed in nervously. "I have an appointment. My name is uh- Sabrina."

"Please proceed."

The gate slowly swung open, and she started forward, accelerating up the winding lane. When she pulled up to the house, she saw a secluded parking lot, not visible from the entrance. A large brick wall covered with ivy separated the lot from the sprawling front lawn.

She drove around the partition and eased into a parking spot beside a sleek Mercedes. As she got out and surveyed the array of very expensive cars.

What kind of people gathered here? Were they all rich, bored types looking for cheap thrills? "Nothing like making sweeping generalizations," she muttered as she headed for the double wooden doors ahead.

Before she could raise the heavy knocker, the door swung open, and she found herself staring at a good-looking, well-dressed man. Okay, not just good-looking, but _very _good-looking.

He smiled broadly at her, "You must be Sabrina," he held his hand out to her, "I'm Damien."

She took his hand, shook it and smiled in return. She felt some of her nervousness dissipate, "I'm so glad to meet you. I feel as though I know you with all the e-mails we've exchanged in the last week."

He chuckled then gestured for her to enter, "Please, come in."

She walked in ahead of him and paused, waiting for him to go in front of her. The foyer was elegantly decorated, the lighting dim enough to make the interior look warm and inviting but not so dark as to give off a sinister aura.

Damien walked up beside her and placed a hand to her back, "By the way, I like what you decided to wear very much."

She turned around, her cheeks heating as she saw his gaze slide up and down her bare legs.

Damien's lips lifted in a half smile before he walked over to the wall and pressed a button on what looked to be an intercom system.

She glanced down at the form-fitting skirt that clipped her legs about two inches above her knee. The shoes, well, she had to admit, they were purely for show.

But they made her feel sexy, vibrant and a little bad. Okay, a whole lot bad. Damien pushed a door open, and a man who looked every bit the butler out of some stodgy English movie walked in carrying a serving tray.

He offered her one of the crystal flutes. Her eyes widened, and she smiled. She was only a little disappointed that he didn't have a British accent.

She took a glass and lifted it to her nose to inhale the aroma of the wine. The butler offered Damien a glass next then inclined his head toward Serena and retreated from the room.

"I'm guessing most of your clients are high end," Serena said before sipping the wine.

Damien chuckled, "It's all about appearances. If you want to attract the right clientele, you have to establish yourself on their level."

"You certainly dress the part," she said dryly, her gaze moving up and down his expensive silk shirt and designer slacks.

He smiled lazily at her. "Are you comfortable here?"

She blinked at his sudden change of topic. After a moment's thought, she realized she wasn't nearly as nervous as she had been. But then this was probably part of the game plan. Ply the potential member with booze until they were too soused to worry about what they were getting into.

A giggle escaped her at that thought.

Damien looked at her in amusement, "You truly are as delightful in person as you came across on the phone and in your e-mails. I was prepared to be disappointed. I'm glad I wasn't."

Serena blushed, her cheeks warming under his scrutiny.

He set his glass on the mahogany coffee table by the reception. "The House is divided into two levels. The lower level is where all the socializing occurs. We invite a very relaxed, laidback atmosphere. Rooms are set up for patrons to mingle, talk, get to know each other. We have strict guidelines for what occurs on the main level."

She pressed the rim of the glass to her lips and took a long swallow of the wine. Flutters abounded in her stomach as she listened. It was real. She was really here about to dive headfirst into- what? She wasn't even sure.

"The second level is where the action is, so to speak. There are a variety of rooms. Some private. Some open to the public. There is a main room, quite large, where the space is divided into different sections. This is the common area, where you'll find a variety of activities concentrated in one place. Some of our patrons enjoy the public aspect of it while others prefer and demand strict privacy. We accommodate both."

She leaned forward, her interest alive, her curiosity insatiable, "And what happens in these public areas?"

Damien smiled, "Anything and everything. You must prepare yourself for any possibility. This is a place to let your inhibitions fly away. When you step through our doors, you are free to become someone else entirely, or, as I suspect in your case, embrace who you really are. No one is judged here. We are very open and accepting of all lifestyles."

"And the membership qualifications," Serena began, "You said they were stringent. I assume this means that members are screened and that the 'activities' here are monitored for safety?"

"Excellent question," Damien said, his eyes flaring with approval, "Our members do go through a strenuous screening process. We require extensive background checks. No one with any criminal record, regardless of charge, is allowed membership.

"Not only are we dedicated to providing an environment where members may play out their fantasies and lifestyle choices, but we absolutely guarantee the safety of each and every participant."

Her eyes widened, "That seems a lot to guarantee."

Damien nodded, "Yes, but we are one hundred percent committed to keeping that promise. We do not hesitate to step in if we feel the situation is unsafe for one or more members."

Serena was impressed by his confidence and his air of authority. In fact, he managed to make her feel not so much like a weird freak sneaking around some seedy sex club looking for cheap thrills.

"Are you ready for your tour?" he asked.

She swallowed and set her glass down next to his, "Yes. Yes, I think I am."


	4. Chapter 4

**Warning : This chapter contains graphic smut!**

* * *

He stood and offered his hand to her. She took his hand as her legs trembled, and she hoped she could keep her knees from knocking together. She found she wasn't so much nervous as she was excited. Intrigued. And more than a little turned on.

"I'll be with you every step of the way. If you have any questions, any concerns, I'll be happy to address them."

Serena smiled, "Okay then. I'm ready."

He tucked her hand under his arm and escorted her out the door of the sitting room. "We'll tour the social rooms on the lower level first. It will give you an idea of how relaxed things are here. No one will expect you to interact or to greet them unless that is your wish. Everyone here is well used to circumspection."

She squeezed his arm with her fingers. He turned and looked questioningly at her.

"I really appreciate all you've done to make me feel at ease. If you do this with all your members, I can understand why your establishment is so successful."

He smiled and laid his hand over hers, "I just hope you find what it is you're looking for."

_ So do I._

They entered a larger room where several people stood and sat around talking. It was a party environment, but not the loud, raucous variety. This was more like an upscale gathering where the talk was hushed. Soothing piano music played in the background, and a waiter walked among those gathered, distributing glasses of wine.

A few turned and smiled at Damien, but none approached him.

"This is the main meeting room. Usually the first stop for anyone coming into The House. From here, people split off or go on upstairs to other pursuits. It's not always about sex or wanting to play. Many of our members just come here to meet with like-minded people and spend the evening talking and visiting."

They spent a few moments circling the room, and Serena tried hard not to study the other members. They'd certainly afforded her the courtesy of not staring. But still, she couldn't resist quick glances from the corners of her eyes.

There was an interesting mix of people. Some were dressed to the nines while others had adopted a much more casual look. Jeans, T-shirts, tennis shoes. She was glad she'd opted for a compromise between übercasual and very dressy.

Absent, much to her relief, were the leather costumes she was embarrassed to admit she'd thought she'd see. To her further surprise, the people gathered all looked like normal, average, everyday people.

Maybe she'd expected replicas of the oddities she'd found while scouring the internet, but clearly, those weren't to be found here. Damien touched her arm, and she looked up at him.

"Are you ready to move on?" he asked.

She nodded, and he led her out of the room and down the hall to a smaller, more intimate gathering. Here, most people were seated in tight-knit groups. Two men sat on a love seat, and a woman perched on one of their laps conversing with both guys. The second man smoothed his hand up and down her leg while the other man's hands clasped loosely around her hips.

Serena's cheeks grew warm again. It was obvious the woman held the attention of both the men. A satisfied smile curved the beautiful woman's lips.

Serena's gaze was riveted to the scene before her so intently that she had to force herself to drag her stare away to take in the other occupants of the room.

Her fingers curled just a little tighter around Damien's arm as he led her toward the stairs. On the way, they passed two other side rooms where people had broken off into smaller groups to talk and socialize.

"Ready?" he asked as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

She took a deep breath and tried to settle all the butterflies doing somersaults in her stomach, "Ready."

He smiled and started up the stairs. When they reached the top, she was surprised by the closed door. Damien reached for the knob, "The walls up here are soundproof. It's to keep distractions to a minimum."

When he opened the door, the murmur of voices reached her ears. She strained to hear more as they eased down the hallway. They passed several closed doors, and Damien made no move to open those. They must be the private accommodations he'd mentioned. What she wouldn't give to know what was going on behind those doors.

As they ventured farther down the long hallway, other sounds tickled her ears. Curious sounds. Moans, a few gasps, a slapping sound, like the smack of skin on skin. They grew louder until she and Damien paused inside the doorway to a large common room.

Though there was no actual divider, the room was arranged into several sections merely by the arrangement of various furniture. The decor was also different for the segments.

Women, men, some nude, some not, some indulging in passionate embraces, some in positions she couldn't quite discern the purpose for, dotted the room.

Damien seemed to realize she needed the time to sort through the barrage of images coming too hard and fast for her to digest right away.

"Let's start to the right," he murmured to her, "We'll make the circle."

Damien drew up short when someone touched him on the arm and leaned in to whisper in his ear. It looked to be one of the people who worked for him, though she couldn't be sure.

Damien frowned then put a hand to her back, "There's a phone call I must take. I won't be but a moment. Joseph will stay here with you until I return."

He squeezed her hand with his other one before turning away and retreating down the hallway. Joseph stood attentively by her side as her gaze again wandered over the room. There was so much to take in that she had a hard time processing it all.

To her immediate right, where Damien had intended for them to begin, two men were entangled in a passionate embrace on a pallet that reminded her of something you might find in a Japanese bedroom.

Though their kisses were wild, rushed, heated, they set about removing their clothes in a slow, measured manner. When she realized how hard she was staring, she looked away, embarrassed and ashamed to have ogled them.

"It's okay," Joseph whispered close to her ear, "No one in the public areas minds being watched. Many of our regulars routinely observe such displays. Voyeurism is a very legitimate sexual pleasure."

Her gaze shot to his face, and heat crawled all the way up her neck and burned her ears. Just the word _voyeur _sounded ugly and more than a little icky.

Joseph smiled patiently at her as if understanding her discomfort.

But even though she was embarrassed by her close scrutiny of the two men, her gaze drifted back. The sight of two men locked in such an erotic embrace fascinated her. Her eyes widened more when one of the men pulled at the other man's pants, freeing his length. Her lips parted, a little in shock, a little because her breaths were coming in short, rapid spurts.

When the first man gently moved his lips over the other man's length, Serena's pulse began racing. The sight should repulse her. Something told her it should, but just as quickly she discounted that absurd notion.

The man's eyes cut over in her direction, and for a moment their gazes locked. She should look away, but she found herself unable to do so. A soft, secret smile curved the man's lips as he worked his mouth up and down his lover's length. Then he winked saucily at Serena. She grinned and winked back then promptly scolded herself for being so brazen.

She jumped when Damien put his hand on her arm. She hadn't even realized he'd returned. He smiled at her, "My apologies. I had to take a call from one of our members. Are you ready to continue?"

Her gaze returned to the two men making love on the silk-covered pallet before she nodded. The next area featured two couples, one on a couch and the other on the floor, pillows surrounding them. The woman on the couch leaned back against the back, her legs splayed out in front of the man kneeling in front of her. His head lowered to her sex, and her hand threaded through his hair, urging him on.

The woman on the floor was positioned on her hands and knees as the man behind her thrust eagerly into her body.

"Partner swapping," Damien said in a low voice.

Serena's eyes widened, "Oh, you mean like swinging?"

Damien smiled, "I suppose you could put it that way."

He cupped her elbow in his hand and pointed with his other hand to an area in the corner, "I think the next few might interest you."

When she looked up and saw what he was gesturing at, her mouth went dry. A woman was tied to a bed, her arms pulled above her head and secured to the bedposts.

She was blindfolded and gagged. A man held her legs apart and draped her ankles over his shoulders as he thrust into her repeatedly. Despite the gag, Serena could hear her moans of pleasure. It sounded incredibly erotic.

She crossed her arms self consciously over her chest, not wanting anyone to see her visible reaction to the scene playing out before her.

Her eyes were riveted, and she was unable to tear herself away from sight and sounds of the couple. She blinked in surprise when another man sauntered to the bed, one hand wrapped around his jutting length.

The first man pulled away from the woman while the second settled between her legs and immediately began rocking against her. The first man moved up the bed and began toying with the woman's nipples, plucking them between his fingers. Then he bent and began sucking and nipping at them while the second man seemed intent on fucking her silly.

All the while, the woman writhed beneath them, her arms straining against her bonds. Serena's eyes were glued to the ropes around the woman's wrists, and a peculiar ache settled in her chest as she imagined herself in the woman's place.

"You like this," Damien said quietly.

Serena nodded, unwilling to voice her agreement.

"Then come. There's more," he said simply.

She followed, though she was reluctant to leave the trio. She wanted to see it played out until the end. Until the men relented and gave the woman her release.

They moved to the back of the room, directly across from the doorway they'd entered. Serena cocked her head in curiosity as she watched a man push a woman to her knees in front of him. He reached for the zipper of his pants and a few seconds later pulled out his length. With his free hand, he cupped the woman's chin and tilted her head up so her mouth brushed against his erection.

"Open," he commanded.

She dutifully complied.

He arched his hips forward, sliding his length deep into her mouth. His hand still cupped her jaw, and his thumb pressed into her cheek to keep her mouth open. He slid his other hand to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair as he fucked her harder.

For several long seconds, the only sound was the wet sucking noise as his hips met her cheeks. The image did more for her than the action. Here was a man who obviously exerted control over the woman. He wasn't loud or obnoxious, in fact, he very quietly uttered his commands, but there was a thread of authority in his voice that sent shivers skirting down Serena's spine.

The man suddenly pulled back, "Rise," he ordered the woman.

The woman rose on shaky legs as she caught her breath. The man reached for a wooden paddle resting on a nearby table then motioned the woman over with his hand.

Serena's gaze followed the woman as she moved to an oddly shaped object that was a strange mixture of metal and leather padding. The center had a scooped-out spot that reminded Serena of an inverted saddle. Its use was made clear when the woman bent over it, the notch cradling her abdomen.

Her legs rested against the inverted V that sprouted from the cradle until her body maintained the exact line of the apparatus. Her head fell over the other side, and her arms dangled, then her hands grasped at the base to steady herself.

Serena's gaze flitted back to the man, who circled behind the woman, his steps slow and measured. His fingers curled around the paddle that resembled some old-school discipline stick. His hand cupped and caressed the woman's back. Then he pulled the paddle back and connected with her. Serena jumped as the smacking sound filled the air.

The woman also jumped then let out a small moan as she settled back into position.

"You are to make no sound," the man commanded. He struck her again, this time on the other side.

Blood rushed to Serena's head, and her pulse pounded hard against her temples. Her fingers shook, and she curled them into balls at her side.

The man continued his show of dominance, and Serena had little time to ponder her extreme reaction to this particular scene. She was too busy absorbing it, experiencing the confusing thrill.

"Tell me, would you like to try it?" Damien asked.

Serena jerked her gaze from the couple and stared at Damien in surprise. "I don't understand."

"Would you like to take her place?" he asked, gesturing to the woman being spanked. "Of all the scenes, you seem to be the most keenly attuned to this one. You're here to explore your desires. What better way than to experience it firsthand?"

"You allow that?" she asked incredulously.

He smiled patiently. "We don't make choices for our members or prospective members. You're here to make a decision about whether this is something you want. I merely want to aid you in that decision. Think of it as test-driving a car before purchasing it."

She laughed. She couldn't help it. The idea of comparing getting naked in front of strangers to test- driving a car seemed ludicrous. But then as she gazed around at the people milling about the room, no one seemed to put much stock in nudity. She was the only one gaping like a kid in a candy store.

"What do I do?" she whispered. God, could she do this? She wanted to. No doubt about that. But the thought of doing it nearly made her sick with nervousness.

Damien touched her cheek and rubbed a finger down her jaw line in a soothing manner. "I'll be here the entire time. I'll help you undress, and I'll stay beside you. You can do as much or as little as you'd like. I'm just here to monitor, to make sure you aren't hurt and that no one makes you do something you don't want. Those are the only rules. Everything else goes."

She swallowed, closed her eyes then opened them again to see him staring at her. Then she nodded, "Okay. Yes. I want to very much."

He smiled then, "Good. See, you're already taking control of your desires."

Again her gaze flitted around the room. To her relief, no one seemed to be paying her any attention. She had this embarrassing image of everyone stopping what they were doing to stare at her. Damien gestured at the man, who paused and nodded. Then the man touched the woman's shoulder and helped her into an upright position. To Serena's surprise, he bent to kiss her before motioning her away.

"I'm not intruding on a relationship, am I?" Serena asked hesitantly.

Damien shook his head then put both hands on her shoulders, "I'm going to undress you now. Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

_ Oh hell! _She inhaled deeply through her nose and nodded.

Damien let his hands trail from her shoulders to the waistband of her skirt, "Turn around," he ordered softly.

She did as he asked, shivering at the firm tone of his voice. Did he know how much the air of authority turned her on? He must. He'd pretty much been her sole confidant in this venture, which was odd, considering they were virtual strangers. Or maybe they were virtual friends since they'd only talked through the internet. A nervous giggle quivered in her throat, and she swallowed it back.

His fingers fumbled with the button and zipper of her skirt. He undid both and let the material fall in a pool at her feet. She didn't look down. She wouldn't look down. She had no desire to see herself standing in heels, underwear and her shirt.

"Back around," he ordered.

Slowly, she turned, her gaze cast to the floor.

Gathering the material of her silky camisole in his fingers, he tugged upward. "Arms over your head," he said.

She complied, and he pulled it up. She closed her eyes and crossed her arms over as much bare skin as she could.

"Arms down."

Again, his voice sent shivers quaking over her body. Slowly, she let her arms fall until she stood in front of him, clad in only her panties and bra.

"Open your eyes. Look at me," Damien said.

She pried one eye open then the other. Behind Damien, the man with the paddle stood looking at her, interest darkening his brown eyes.

"You're a beautiful woman, Sabrina. Embrace it. Don't be shy."

He tugged at her bra straps until they tumbled down her shoulders. He stepped close to her and reached around to undo the clasp. All too soon, the bra fell away, and her immediate reaction was to cover herself with her hands. But Damien grabbed her wrists with his hands.

"No."

The one word shot over her, and she stood, knees quaking, waiting for the rest.

"Slip out of your shoes," he said calmly.

She kicked them off and nudged them away with her toe.

His hands glided down her sides to her hips, where his fingers dug into the lacy band of her panties. Slowly and methodically, he inched them down until they too fell to the floor.

Oh God, she was naked. Was it possible to endure a full body blush? Because she felt red-hot from head to toe, and she bet her skin had to be flushed.

Damien's hands returned to her hips. His fingers brushed her skin lightly as they climbed higher to her breasts. He palmed the fleshy mounds and rubbed his thumb over the nipples until they hardened.

Liquid heat pooled between her legs, and more than anything she wanted to slide her fingers down to her sex so she could alleviate the burning ache.

He reached down for her hand then turned to the man standing behind him. "She's all yours, Brent."

Serena gulped and waited for the man's command. Brent's eyes narrowed as he studied her. She felt his gaze on parts of her body that already tingled and pulsed.

"Come to me," he said.

She moved forward with halting steps. He pointed to the same apparatus the last woman had lain across.

"Stomach down, arms over the other side, legs spread and lined up with the legs of the stool."

She bit her lip but complied, moving forward to fit her stomach to the warm leather pad. She leaned forward then felt Damien's hands on her back as he helped her into position.

"If at any time you want to stop, just say so," Damien said close to her ear, "I'll be right here."

Another hand, one more unfamiliar, caressed her back. The sheer forbidden quality of a stranger touching her so intimately should be more exciting. Though her legs trembled and felt jellylike, Brent's touch failed to fire her senses.

Without warning, the paddle met her fleah in a loud smack. She jumped. It startled her.

Then she frowned. While she hadn't envisioned some stinging, lashing blow, the light pat on her ass had been just that. A pat.

The paddle fell again, this time on the other side as he had done with the other woman. Her brow furrowed. Was this all there was to it?

Her nerve endings were on fire with anticipation. She wanted- no she needed something, though she wasn't sure what. More of a push, more of an edge. Not this light pat on the butt she was getting.

Another blow fell, and tears of disappointment pricked her eyes. She raised her head, prepared to tell Damien to make Brent stop when her gaze locked on the entrance across the room.

A gasp escaped her that had nothing to do with the blow that landed on her backside. Standing in the entrance, his gaze solidly locked on her, was Nate.


	5. Chapter 5

** Hey guys! Thank you so much for your reviews! Here's the next chapter. Cheers :) Warning : Smut alert ;)**

* * *

Nate stood in the doorway, arms crossed, a fierce expression on his face. What on earth was he doing here? Mortification gripped Serena as he continued to stare at her, tension rolling off him in waves.

But then she shook her head. No, she had nothing to be ashamed of. She didn't know what the hell he was doing here, and she didn't care. She gazed defiantly at him, determined not to back down in shame.

Her head slowly lowered, and she shut her eyes tight in disappointment as another tap landed on her behind. It wasn't real. None of it was real. A tear dripped down and hit the floor beneath her. Clearly this was all for show, a spectacle more for the observer than the participant. Or maybe it just didn't do it for her.

She felt so close. On the cusp of something. Her skin crawled with need. She felt edgy, restless, and she'd had enough. Once again, she raised her head and opened her mouth to halt the entire process. Her mouth continued to gape open when she saw Nate standing just a foot away, his eyes blazing with promise.

Promise of what?

Brent stepped back, then moved toward Nate. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the two men size each other up. Then Nate turned his head to Damien. "May I?" he asked as he gestured toward the paddle in Brent's hand.

Damien shook his head resolutely, "Absolutely not."

"Ask her," Nate said in a steely voice, "Ask her if she wants it," his blue eyes caressed her face, challenging her, baiting her.

God, he wanted to spank her? Her body prickled to life, and her blood roared like a raging river in her veins. She gulped, trying to breathe around her heavy tongue.

Damien looked between her and Nate, his expression questioning. "Sabrina? Is this something you want? He isn't a member here. He'll be escorted out. All you have to do is say the word."

She licked dry lips, trying desperately to work up the nerve to go where she dared. Slowly she nodded.

"No, I have to hear you. You tell me what you want," Damien insisted.

"Yes," she whispered. "Yes," she said in a louder voice, "Please." Her voice cracked, and she relaxed her neck for a moment, the strain of holding her head up uncomfortable.

She was crazy. This cemented it. But Brent wasn't doing it for her. In fact, for as turned on as she was by the visuals she'd experienced, as soon as Brent had touched her, she'd gone as flat as a day-old Coke.

The idea of Nate touching her, of him being the one to dominate her… She shuddered.

A firm hand cupped her chin and directed her gaze up. She met Nate's captivating blue eyes and blinked as he stared piercingly at her.

"Can you take it, Sabrina?" he smirked. Bastard. He'd thrown down the challenge now. Her eyes narrowed.

"Don't play games," he said softly, "I'll take you where you want to go, but you have to be willing to get there."

He stared at her for another long second before letting her chin slide from his hand. She cocked her head to the side to watch him as he turned to Damien.

"Tie her hands," he directed.

She swallowed in surprise and started to protest, but she bit her tongue. No, this was what she wanted. And she knew Damien would call a halt if she so much as squeaked.

Damien bent and tied one wrist to the leg of the stool with a leather thong. Then he secured her other one.

"And her ankles," Nate said.

She closed her eyes, anticipation nearly undoing her as both ankles were tied to the wooden legs.

Lord, but she felt vulnerable. And it stirred her as nothing ever had before.

She heard his footsteps as he moved around behind her. One finger trailed down the seam of her back and paused just above her sex.

_ Touch me. Oh please touch me._

But he didn't.

He pulled his hand away, and then the paddle met her flesh in a stinging smack. Her body lurched forward, and her eyes flew open in shock.

"Wait for it," he murmured from behind her.

The burn radiated from her back and was soon replaced by a hazy glow that bled into her body. Before she had time to fully process the sensation, he delivered another stinging blow.

Her eyes closed, and she relaxed her head. A moan escaped her as the heat simmered over her skin. Again, the paddle connected. One side. Then the other. Soon her body was awash in what she could only describe as an edgy, euphoric shimmer.

He placed the swats strategically, never hitting the same spot twice. She strained against her bonds, nearly weeping with her need to achieve her release. She wanted more, craved more, and yet she wasn't sure she could handle more.

What was happening to her?

Ten? A dozen? She lost count. Then nothing. Silence fell. Cool air washed over the burning. She let out a low wail.

"Please," she whispered.

He leaned over her. She could feel his shirt against her shoulders, "What do you want, Serena?" he whispered in her ear, "Tell me what you want."

"I want to come," she gasped out.

His fingers found her sex. As soon as he touched her, she went off like a firecracker. Her head arched, and she cried out as the explosion rocked her to her core.

He continued to massage and manipulate her sex until she cried out for him to stop. She collapsed her tense muscles, lying over the stool like a limp, overcooked noodle.

Gentle hands untied her wrists, and she pried open her eyes to see Damien in front of her, his gaze questioning.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

She nodded, unable to do more than that.

Nate put his hands around her shoulders and pulled her up to stand beside him. When she got enough nerve to look him in the eye, she saw a mixture of confusion, desire and anger in his eyes.

"Get dressed," he muttered.

Damien handed her clothes to her, and she yanked on her skirt and blouse, not bothering with the underwear.

"She's going home," Nate threw out in Damien's direction.

Damien lifted a brow as he looked at Serena for confirmation. She bit back a smile. Then she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

"Thank you," she whispered, "I think I found exactly what I wanted."

Nate all but hauled her from the room and into the darkened hallway. As soon as they were away from prying eyes, he shoved her against the wall, forcing her hands over her head. His lips met hers in a frenzied rush.

Her body, still shaky from her explosive orgasm, nearly folded. He lowered her arms then moved his hands to her waist, then up her body to her breasts.

"I wanted to touch them," he said hoarsely, "I wanted to touch you everywhere."

He shoved her top up until his hands found her breasts. He cupped them, brushed his thumbs across the sensitive peaks. Then he bent his head and sucked one of the nipples into his mouth.

Her knees buckled. She made a grab for his shoulders, wrapped her hands around his neck and clutched him to her. The air coalesced around her. Bright, shimmery sparkles seemed to suspend in midair.

Every nerve ending was still supercharged from her earlier release, and his mouth on her nipples sent a raging inferno through her system.

His hand slid down her body to the hem of her skirt, and he yanked it up, baring her thighs then her pussy. He suckled her nipple then moved his head to her other one, working his mouth rhythmically.

He parted her thighs with his hand then slid his fingers into her wet folds. She groaned at the dual sensation of his fingers in her pussy and his mouth on her breast.

He let go of her nipple and stared her in the eye as he slid two fingers deep into her sex. His thumb found her, and he stroked.

"Come for me," he growled, "Give me one more."

As his fingers worked deep, an uncontrollable shudder rolled over her body. It started deep in her and radiated outward. It tightened until she felt near to bursting. And then she did.

As she cried out, he dropped his head to her neck, kissing and biting at the skin under her ear. He held her up with his free arm while his other hand slid in and out of her pussy.

She closed her eyes against the sudden burst of pleasure. It was too much and not enough all at the same time, "Oh, God," she panted.

She clung desperately to him as she rode the fierce storm of her release. He kissed her, passionately, savagely, taking everything she had and offering in return one of the most intoxicating sexual experiences of her life.

As her shudders diminished, and he withdrew his hand from between her legs, she whimpered softly. Slowly, he eased her down until her feet were solidly planted on the floor. Her gaze flickered down to his pants.

In the shadows of the hallway, she couldn't make out the bulge covered in the dark denim, but she'd felt it a moment ago. She lowered her hands and cupped him.

He went rigid against her.

"Show me how to please you," she said softly.

He hesitated and then put a hand on her shoulder. He pushed her down to her knees while reaching for his fly with the other hand.

He fumbled with the button and the zipper. As the fly parted, he reached in and pulled out his length. Another liquid surge of desire blazed through her veins.

His hand tangled in her hair as he cupped the back of her neck. With his other hand, he guided his length to her mouth.

"Take it deep," he rasped.

She opened her mouth and let him slide between her lips.

"Oh yeah, like that," he said with a groan.

He inched forward, pushing her head against the wall. His hand left her head, and he placed both hands above her, leaning into her.

She tasted him, curiously, wanting to absorb his flavor, his essence, everything that made him the powerful male. She enjoyed the rougher texture of his length and the smoother, velvety softness of the head as it rubbed against her tongue over and over.

There in the hallway, for anyone to see as they passed, he fucked her mouth against the wall. She was on a high she might never come down from. It was heady, exhilarating in a way she'd never experienced.

He plunged deeper, and she forced her throat to relax around him. His hips worked back and forth, and she slid her hands around to cup his back.

Again he reached down, tangling his fingers in her hair, holding her as he fucked in long strokes.

Then he took her head in both hands.

His hands relaxed against her head, but he continued stroking her hair as he rocked back and forth in her mouth. There was such strength in his movements, yet they echoed such gentleness. It was an addicting combination.

With seeming reluctance, he pulled away from her, his semi erect length falling from her mouth. He tucked it back into his pants and fastened them up.

She knelt there, too stunned, too out of sorts to get to her feet. She wasn't sure she had the strength anyway.

He reached down, curled his hands underneath her arms and pulled her to her feet.

"It's time to get out of here," he said gruffly.

He wrapped an arm around her waist and started to lead her to the stairs. As she glanced back down the hallway, she saw Damien standing in the doorway to the great room. How long had he stood there? Had he watched the entire interlude?

Strangely she felt no panic over the thought. Nate hustled her down the stairs, past the social rooms and out the door leading into the small parking lot. A blast of humid air hit her in the face, sucking the breath right out of her lungs. Not that she had much to spare.

When they stepped onto the pavement, she realized she hadn't gotten her shoes. She halted and stifled a giggle.

Nate stopped and shot her a sideways look, "Something wrong?"

She looked curiously at him. He seemed so…pissed. So out of sorts.

"My shoes," she said, "I left them. I need to go back."

"You're not going back in there," he ground out.

She opened her mouth to protest, but he silenced her with a look.

"I'll buy you another pair. You're not going back."

Some part of her wanted to tell him to fuck off, but another part, the cautious, _smart _part of her warned her not to push right now.

He urged her forward again, his hand at her elbow. He guided her between her car and his, but instead of opening her door, he opened the passenger side of his.

"Get in," he directed.

"But my car!"

"I'll get it for you later," he said, "Get in. I'll take you home."

She stared at him for a long moment before sighing. With a resigned huff, she climbed in, and he closed the door behind her. She sat in the dark, staring straight ahead until he walked around and opened the driver's side. He slid in beside her and thrust the key into the ignition.

She watched from her periphery but he never looked her way. He backed out of the lot and headed down the long driveway, his gaze locked in front of him.

"Want to tell me what all that was about?" she asked when they turned onto the highway.

She heard something that sounded like a grunt. Unwilling to let the silence continue, she turned in her seat to face him.

"It was nothing," he muttered.

Her face twisted with incredulity. "Nothing?" she stared at him in shock, "I can still feel the marks on my ass, feel your fingers in me. I can still taste you in my mouth."

He gaped at her, his eyes wide with surprise, "Don't be crude, Serena. It doesn't suit you."

"Why did you show up here, Nate? How did you know I'd be here? Because I don't believe in coincidences."

He stared out the windshield, his jaw clenched.

"Nate?"

"I saw your day planner," he mumbled.

"That doesn't explain why you showed up, why you stepped in, why you-"

"Okay, Serena, I get the point. Really, I do. Can we just drop it?"

She sucked her cheeks in until her lips pursed. Then with a shake of her head, she turned her back to him and stared out her window.

The traffic passed in a blur. The distant glow of the New York skyline reflected off her window and bathed the night with an iridescent shine.

Had she imagined the whole damn thing? Because right now it all seemed the product of one too many vivid dreams. Good dreams, mind you. Really, _really _good dreams.

Unfortunately for her, the man behind those dreams was treating her like his worst nightmare.

What the hell had happened back there? And what the hell was Nate's problem? He acted jealous, but she wasn't anything to him. One stolen kiss didn't grant a license to spank her ass. Even if she

loved every minute of it.

"You need help," she muttered. The serious lying-on-a-couch-across-from-a-shrink kind of help.

She pressed her forehead to the warm glass and closed her eyes. How had things gotten so fucked up? She couldn't even blame Nate. He'd actually salvaged what was otherwise an exercise in complete disappointment.

Why had she reacted to him and not Brent?

Because it had been real with Nate. Not a pretense. Not a show put on more for the spectator than the participant. Brent had merely toyed with her. Given her the appearance of dominance. Nate? He was a completely different story.

A fascinating, seductive story. One she wanted to watch unfold. Wanted to _experience _unfolding.

She didn't know what the hell was wrong with him, but she'd learned quite a lot tonight. Namely, that what she was looking for _was _well under her nose. His name was Nate Archibald. And he was more than capable of feeding her darkest, most secret desires.

When they pulled into the parking lot of the apartment complex, Serena didn't immediately move to open her door. Nate opened his and walked around to open it for her, but still, she sat there.

"Serena," he said, holding out his hand, "It's time you got home."

Her chest gave a jerk as she let out a dry laugh. Then she turned her stare on him.

"You're just going to ignore what happened?" She got down and stood toe-to-toe with him, looking into his eyes, "Nate, we didn't just share a kiss, trade a few gropes and back away."

He turned his head upward to stare at the sky, his face drawn tight. "It was a lot more than that, and you're pretending it didn't happen?"

He lowered his head again but didn't look her in the eye, "I need to go get your car," he said, "You go on in. I'll see you tomorrow."

"How are you going to get my car?" she asked in exasperation.

"Serena, please. Just go inside."

She threw up her hands and stalked off toward her door. Whatever was up his ass wasn't going to be dislodged tonight. But damn it, tomorrow he was going to talk to her.

She pressed the elevator button forcefully as the doors slid open. A hand touched her shoulder as she started to go in. She turned around to see Nate standing there. A surge of hope rose within her.

"I need the keys," he said simply.

With a scowl, she slapped the keys against his chest, and without waiting for him to take them, she whirled around and left him staring at her.

As soon as she entered her apartment, she could see Dorota and Vanya scrambling around, putting away the dishes. Everyone must have left. Before she could be seen by Lily, she clutched her arms around her waist and headed for her bathroom. Right now a long, hot bath was the first order of business. Sorting out her cluster fuck of an evening could come later.


	6. Chapter 6

** Hey, guys! Thank you for your reviews :) Here's chapter 6! Hope you like it. Warning : Smut ahead. **

* * *

Serena had thought about it all week while Nate had continued to pretend like Friday night never happened and once the idea had presented itself, she hadn't been able to shove it out of her mind. It had unfolded in exacting detail along with her smug assuredness that it just had to work. It was perfect.

She dug out her cell phone on her way out of The Spectator and punched in Dan's number.

"Hey, you," Dan said when he answered the phone.

"Where are you?" she asked.

"With Chuck, why?"

"Don't let him know it's me you're talking to," she hurried to say.

He paused. His tone grew serious. "What's going on?"

"I need a favor," she said. "A no-questions-asked favor and what on earth are you doing with Chuck?"

"How about you return me the favor?" he chuckled.

"Can you ditch Chuck and meet me at Nate's house right now?"

"I'll be right over," he said.

She sighed in relief, "Thank you. See you soon."

She closed her phone, grateful he'd done as she'd requested and asked no questions. Not that he wouldn't have plenty when he saw her, but at least he hadn't let on in front of Chuck.

She got off the taxi and glanced warily down at Nate's empty parking place and hoped he stayed tied up at the meeting for another half hour like he was supposed to.

She waited, until she saw Dan pull in and park a few places down. She hurried over to meet him.

"Serena, what's going on?" he asked as she approached. His brow was creased in concern.

She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward Nate's door. "I'll tell you when we get inside his house."

"Oooh, breaking and entering. You know how to have fun, girl."

She laughed and held up the key when they got to the door, "It's not breaking and entering if you have a key."

"He gave it to you?"

"Stole his spare," Serena smirked.

"Sneaky. Even better."

She hauled her purse strap over her shoulder as she inserted the key into the lock. Seconds later, she and Dan slipped into the darkened interior, and Dan closed and locked the door behind them.

"Okay, we're in. Now are you going to tell me what I'm risking a jail cell for?"

She swallowed nervously and fidgeted with her purse strap, "I want you to- uh, tie me to Nate's bed. Naked," she tensed, waiting for Dan's response. She didn't have to wait long.

His mouth fell open, "Whoa. Wait a second. You want me to do _what_?"

"You heard me," she mumbled.

"Oh boy," he shoved his hand through the hair at his forehead and pushed back until his fingers were thrust deep into his unruly mop, "Serena, are you sure you know what you're doing?"

She checked her watch as panic edged up her spine, "Look, Dan, can you play armchair shrink while you're tying me to the bed? I'm running out of time. He's going to be home soon, and I'd rather he not find you here."

"That makes two of us," Dan muttered. He sighed, "Lead on."

She headed down the hallway and paused at the open door to his bedroom. As she glanced inside, she was relieved that the bed was just like she'd expected. If Nate hadn't had bedposts, she would've had to have done some major improvising.

She motioned Dan in and turned around to face him, "I know this is awkward, but I couldn't ask Chuck. He's too much like a brother, you know, like Eric. But you…you at least look at me like I'm a woman."

He arched one brow.

She gave him an _oh please _look, "I see you checking out my ass," she said.

He laughed, "Well, I guess the reward of this venture is getting to see you naked. I can mark at least one fantasy off my list."

She chuckled as she pulled her purse off her shoulder and dug for the rope. She thrust it at Dan, and he uncoiled it as she started to slip her clothing off.

"You know," he said, "If you're wanting to get Nate's attention, which I'm assuming is the reason behind all this, I can think of less drastic measures than tying yourself to his bed."

Her hands paused as she reached around for the clasp of her bra.

"Here, let me," he offered.

His fingers brushed across her back as he unclasped the hooks, and she held the cups over her breasts with her arm. She walked over to the bed, still clad in her underwear.

"Tell me something, Dan. If you walked into your bedroom and found a naked woman tied to your bed, what would you think?"

"That I'd been a very good boy in a past life?"

She shook her head, "My point is, a woman bound, naked, offering herself to a man, it's a clear signal. He's in control."

Their eyes connected for a long moment, and she saw a kernel of arousal, a spark of pure, primitive male. Yeah, he understood what she was talking about.

"What happened at The House, Serena?" he asked softly, "What did you go there looking for?"

"Gossip Girl shamed me good, huh?" Serena rolled her eyes. She shivered at the intensity of his gaze. Then she climbed onto the bed, letting her bra fall to the floor. She felt him staring at her, and she felt awkward and vulnerable. Taking a deep breath, she reached for her panties and slid them down her legs.

She glanced up to see Dan standing over her, the rope in his hands. There was an odd fire in his eyes, like he was seeing her for the first time.

"What happened at The House?" he repeated.

The command was strong in his voice. It evoked a heady sensation, and awareness prickled over her skin.

"I went looking for something," she whispered, "Something I wanted. I found Nate."

Dan took one of her hands and pulled her arm above her head. He looped the rope around her wrist and tied it to the headboard.

"And what is it you want?"

His voice, buttery smooth, glided over her body, removing the awkward vulnerability and leaving vague arousal in its stead.

She licked her lips as he walked around the bed to take her other arm.

"I'm waiting," he said as he secured her other hand.

"Control," she said simply, "Dominance."

She heard Dan suck in his breath. In silence, he slid his hand down her leg until he looped a length of rope around her ankle.

"You surprise me, Serena," he finally said when he moved to her other leg.

He pulled gently until her legs were completely parted. Her sex was exposed, and she closed her eyes in embarrassment. He'd see how aroused she was.

"Serena, look at me," he ordered.

She opened her eyes as he walked around to the side of the bed. She could see the bulge against his jeans. Fingers, feather light, danced across her belly then up toward her breasts. His touch left her for just a moment before he cupped her in his palm and ran his thumb across her nipple.

She shuddered and arched her body. What the hell was wrong with her?

"I had no idea you wanted a dominant man," he murmured, "A man would go crazy to have such sweet submission."

She gazed helplessly at him, confused, aroused and curious about the promise she saw reflected in his dark eyes. He bent down, leaned over her until his mouth hovered above her belly. Then he pressed his lips to her navel and ran his tongue erotically around the shallow indention.

Chill bumps raced up her body until they collided with her neck.

"You don't have to stay here," he said.

He let his hand wander down her abdomen, until his fingertips brushed between her thighs.

"You could come home with me. I can give you what you want, Serena."

His fingers slid into her wetness, and she cried out as a jolt of surprised pleasure echoed through her. She was tempted. So tempted to take the easy road. Nate was avoiding her. This man was not. Dan wanted her, seemed to understand what _she _wanted. And though her mind was plenty confused, her body didn't seem to have any reservations about accepting Dan's offer.

But Nate called to her. On more than just a sexual level. If it was only about sex, then yes, she could forget this crazy plan and go home with Dan right now. But it was more than that.

She was drawn to Nate on an emotional level she didn't quite understand.

Dan's finger rolled lazily around her sex. It felt good. Her body responded, but she couldn't agree just for the physical release she'd find.

"I can't," she whispered, "Maybe Nate will toss me out. Maybe he won't want what I'm offering, and maybe he can't give me what I need. But I have to find out."

Dan bent and tugged her nipple into his mouth just as his fingers found her sweet spot. She was going to come. She rolled her hips, wanting, needing release from the impossible, edgy tension.

Just as she neared bursting, he pulled away, leaving her aching with need. Then he moved his lips to hers and kissed her softly.

"If he tosses you out, he's a damn fool."

He touched her cheek with his finger as she sought to control her erratic breathing.

"I hope you find what it is you want," he said, "But if you don't, you know where to find me."

Without a backward glance, he walked out of the bedroom.

* * *

Nate left the office, glad that the day was over and he could retreat to his house where there was no chance of seeing Serena.

She was driving him insane. Half the time he could smell her, and she wasn't within a country mile of him. Images of her tied, over the whipping stool, ass invitingly in the air, haunted him.

Man, that position tempted him in so many ways.

He could imagine a dozen scenarios that put him in control, but he wasn't going to go there. He knew Serena for god's sake and she would never submit. He really didn't want to be her damn toy.

He pulled into his parking space, got out and headed toward his door, ready for a hot shower and a cold beer.

He let himself in and tossed the keys on the bar. As he headed down the hallway, the hairs at his nape stood on end. He put his hand on the back of his neck and rubbed as he entered the bedroom.

When he looked up and saw Serena lying on his bed, he damn near tripped over his feet. Naked. Tied to his bed. Holy shit!

She looked at him through half-lidded eyes. Her expression was a mixture of nervousness and arousal. At that moment, every single ounce of feeling was routed down. His length swelled against his jeans until he was certain he'd have a chafing problem tomorrow.

Finally, he got his feet in working order, and he stepped forward, shoving his hands into his pockets in an attempt to disguise the heavy bulge between his legs.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, then felt like a complete dumb-ass for asking what had to be the most obvious question of the year. Women didn't just get naked and tie themselves to a man's bed without a good idea of what they wanted out of the situation.

She wet her lips, the pink tip of her tongue darting out. He nearly groaned as he remembered that tongue on his length, her sweet lips surrounding his flesh and how it felt when he came down her throat.

He pulled his hands from his pockets and flexed his fingers back and forth. He wanted to touch her. Taste her. Fuck her. More than anything, he wanted to peel his jeans off and dive into her, body and soul. Lose himself in her liquid heat.

He curled his fingers into his palms to control the shaking.

"Touch me," she whispered, "Please."

She stared imploringly at him, her bottom lip full and swollen as if she'd been biting it. It looked instead like someone had ravaged her mouth. It reminded him of how she'd looked after he'd fucked her mouth against the wall at the sex club. She looked utterly kissable.

He sank onto the bed beside her and leaned down to touch his lips against hers. She met his advance hungrily, open, accepting, inviting him further.

His tongue swept over hers, and he swallowed her sweet taste into his chest. He reached for her, his hand meeting the curve of her hip as he deepened his kiss. There was no breathing. His lungs screamed for oxygen, but he couldn't tear himself away from her molten touch.

A touch, a caress, his fingers danced over her skin, up her body until he felt the gentle swell of her breast. He tore his mouth away from hers, and they both gasped for air. His mouth slanted over hers again, drinking deeply of her essence.

His lips slid to the corner of her mouth, and then he kissed a line down her jaw, his breaths coming in raspy, erratic bursts. The small fleshy earlobe tempted him. He sucked it between his teeth. She moaned and twisted restlessly underneath him. He felt her shiver against him and saw the chill bumps rise and pucker her skin.

He chased a line of those goose bumps all the way down to her breasts. For a long moment, he simply stared at the coral peaks. He wanted to taste them. Wanted it badly.

He licked one, letting his tongue rasp over the silky tip. She flinched, and he turned to the other, lapping at it like it was a delicious treat. Then he nipped, grazing the nub with his teeth, applying just enough pressure so she'd feel the slight bite of pain.

She made a sound of deep satisfaction, and he smiled against her flesh.

He caressed the soft skin of her belly then moved lower to tease her. With his middle finger, he flicked and rolled her sex. Sweet sighs whispered from her lips.

Delicate, like her. It was a sound bound to inspire male appreciation. He wanted to give her more pleasure just so he could listen to the appreciative noises she made.

He slid his finger lower, circling her entrance, marking a path around the outside, teasing, hinting at a promise not yet fulfilled.

She bucked against him, a moan of contentment bubbling from her chest. In response, he plunged his finger inside her, and she nearly came off the bed.

He groaned as her inner walls convulsed and squeezed his finger. They clasped wetly to him, so tight. Hot silk. He closed his eyes as he imagined it surrounding his length.

"No, not yet," she whimpered.

He opened his eyes to look at her. Her head was thrown back, her honey-blond hair spilling over the pillow. She was close to her orgasm. Why did she want to stop?

"I want," she gasped, "I want you to spank me, like you did the other night. I want you to tie me up and take control. Then-"

He never let her finish. He stood up abruptly, putting at least a foot of distance between them. A surge of irritation belted him square in the face.

She looked at him in confusion, her eyes burning brightly with unfulfilled need, "What's wrong?" she asked, "Why did you stop?"

He swore under his breath, kicking his ass from here to kingdom come for getting sucked into this game.

"Let me guess. You have an entire scenario worked out. First you want me to play around with you. Get you worked up a bit. Play master to your slave. Then you want me to spank your ass and fuck you senseless."

She winced at his crudity, but he didn't spare any guilt for being so candid. Slowly she nodded.

"Is that so bad?" she whispered, "I mean, if you don't want me, just say so. I thought- I thought we connected, that we had chemistry."

Chemistry? Hell, they had enough sexual energy to supply the entire Upper East side with power.

He scrubbed a hand over his head and tried really hard to keep his gaze from the pointed tips of her breasts or lower it. He could see a hint of her pink flesh between her spread legs, and it made him want to- "Serena, what you think you want-" he began as gently as he could, "I think you're kidding yourself."

Her cheeks stained red, and he could tell he angered her.

"Don't tell me you know what I want and don't."

He held up his hand, "Let me finish. Let me see if I have this right. You want to submit to a man. You want a man to dominate you. That's what the trip to The House was all about and your allowing a complete stranger to spank your ass. In public."

She blushed and looked away.

"Am I right? You want to give up control to a man?"

Slowly she nodded.

"But that's not what you're doing," he pointed out.

Her brow furrowed, "What do you mean?"

"As much as you say you want a man's control, you cling to every vestige of control yourself," he gestured down her body at her tied arms and legs, "You've set the scene just as you imagined. You've scripted the role, my role, and decided how everything plays out. You've got every detail worked out in your mind. You're in complete control. No one else. I'm merely a puppet dangling on a string waiting on you to command me to command you and for you to tell me _how _to command you."

Her mouth fell open in shock. Her eyes widened.

"I don't work that way, Serena," he said softly, "I know what I want. A woman who'd be content to let me call the shots. Nothing about this scenario is me doing anything but allowing you to dictate how it is we get together."

He reached down and untied her legs. Then he freed her hands. He pushed himself off the bed and looked down at her, "I'm going to take a shower. It's been a long day."

Serena watched him go, her entire world turned on its axis. Slowly, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and got up to collect her clothes. Not bothering with her bra or panties, she sat back on the bed in stunned silence.

Her body ached from the constant state of arousal, first instigated by Dan and carried one step further by Nate. But she hadn't found completion. But Nate's words had definitely brought her down from her impending orgasm.

How could she not have seen it before? He was exactly right. She craved a man's dominance. Wanted a man to take care of her, but she scripted every aspect of his performance. She had a detailed idea of how she wanted everything to go. Hell, if she had her preference, she'd provide him with a list of every single thing she wanted him to do to her.

She dropped her face into her hands. Oh God, what a moron she was. She hadn't wanted a dominant man. Just the opposite. She'd been trolling for a mindless puppet.

But that wasn't really what she wanted, was it? No, definitely not. Actually what she wanted was a man who didn't _have _to be coached. Someone who could reach inside her and pull out her fantasies, her needs and provide for her. Emotionally and physically.

And even when searching for a mindless puppet, she'd been a dismal failure. She'd spent more time hinting around than she had coming right out and saying what it was she wanted. Was it any wonder she was a walking case of sexual frustration?

What a mess she'd made of things. She wanted to go home and have a good cry. She'd found the perfect man, a man who wanted the same things she did, but she'd gone about it completely wrong. Now Nate thought she was an idiot who didn't have the first clue what she wanted and worse, thought she was playing stupid mind games.

She had obviously sat there beating herself up for longer than she thought because the next thing she knew, Nate put a hand on her shoulder.

She looked up to see him standing there, a towel around his waist.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

She let her hands fall to her sides, and she looked away, "You were right. I didn't even realize what I was doing, but you're right. I was orchestrating the entire thing. It's what I've done in all my relationships. Is it any wonder I'm so fucked up?"

He sat down beside her, holding the towel up with one hand, "You're not fucked up, Serena. And there's nothing wrong with you wanting to orchestrate your sexual fantasies. I merely suggested that what you think you want and what you really want might be two different things. Maybe you need to consider that you might be better off in a situation where you're calling the shots and controlling the situation."

She let out a frustrated sigh, "But that's just it, Nate. That's not what I want. I know I'm all mixed up, but what I want is a strong man. Someone who isn't afraid to step up and call the shots, as you put it. I want, no I need that from the man I'm going to be involved with. I want, I want someone who will take care of me, who will cherish my gift of submission. Maybe that sounds horribly old fashioned, but I'm tired of searching for something that obviously doesn't exist.

"Maybe I went about it all wrong, but it doesn't change what I want. I know what I want. I just haven't figured out how to go about getting it yet."

She stood, suddenly possessed with the need to get the hell out of there. After all, she'd made a big enough ass of herself for one day. Maybe she'd go cry on Blair's shoulder. Or maybe she'd just go home and try to forget this day ever happened.

She chanced one more look at him and found him staring at her in faint shock. There was an odd expression in his eyes like he was puzzling over her words. Which wouldn't surprise her, since she'd made a muck of everything else.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

She headed for the door, only anxious to be as far away from any more self-discovery as possible.

"Serena, wait," he called, but she didn't stop.

She picked up her pace and hurried out the door.


	7. Chapter 7

** Thank you so much for your reviews, guys. I'm really glad you liked it. Here's Chapter 7! Cheers! :)**

* * *

Nate watched her go, helpless frustration seizing his throat. Had he gotten her completely wrong? She'd looked so lost and confused, and then she'd spoken with such conviction about what she wanted.

He'd assumed she was playing sex games. Wanting her little kinky thrills without the veil of realism. But as he'd listened to her pour her heart out, he'd become more convinced that he'd misjudged her. Could it be possible that he'd found a woman who wanted the same things he did from a relationship?

She had seemed unsteady, a little unsure, as if she was just spreading her wings and preparing to fly in uncharted skies and he'd shot her down.

His phone buzzed. He walked to the bed side stand and held the phone to his ear.

"Got any news for me?" the voice came with no greeting.

"I was hoping you had some for me," Nate said, "I've got nothing. I need a lead, Diana. I can't just magically figure it out."

"You've got a lead!"

"No," Nate slumped on the bed, "I'm not getting Serena into this. No."

"She's our best shot at finding Gossip Girl, Nate."

Nate sighed, "There's got to be another way."

"Yeah? What is that?" Diana groaned, "She's writing columns for Fashion and Style when she could be leading us to Gossip Girl! Get real, Nate. The newspaper needs this."

"We'd be lucky if she doesn't quit," Nate clenched his teeth together.

"What?"

"I'll keep you posted," he hung up more irritated than ever.

What the hell was he going to do? What a mess. He couldn't afford to get involved with Serena, not at least until the whole Gossip Girl situation was resolved. He needed Serena to get to Gossip girl. He was going to have to use her, which in essence was what he'd accused her of doing to him. He winced at the hypocrisy.

An odd tightening in his chest and a surge of sadness caught him by surprise. Nothing it seemed he did lately turned out any good. The Spectator was struggling against its competitors and the sponsors were pissed and he'd just driven Serena away. Yeah, life was really good.

* * *

Nate's words churned over and over in Serena's head, an unending litany of just how stupid she'd been. Now that he'd laid it out for her, it seemed so clear. Her idea of a man taking control had been handing him a checklist of activities to perform. But amid her lament, one single thought formed and took hold.

With the right man, she wouldn't have to give directions, and the simple fact was, she'd never been with the right man. That much was obvious. She'd responded out of frustration in the only way she saw how. But Nate had balked at her subtle control. He was a man used to doing things his own way. He would have been perfect for her if she hadn't managed to convince him she was a flighty twit playing games.

She was more confused than ever. Her gaze slid to the cordless phone she'd carried into the bathroom with her. She had two options. She could call Dan, but she was sure he'd respond with an invitation, and she wasn't prepared for that. Or she could call Blair and get her opinion. After a moment's hesitation, she picked up the phone and called her. On the second ring, Blair picked up.

"Hey, S, so you do have time for me."

"I'm sorry, Blair. It's just been a bad week," Serena sank lower in the tub and gazed down at her freshly painted toenails. But not even the bright, cheery pink managed to pick her spirits up.

"Even without attending Lily's dinner?" Blair teased.

"Amen, sister," Serena giggled, already feeling a little light.

"Well, let's see, Gossip Girl says, '_Spotted: S leaving Nate's house in a frenzy. Why so hasty, S?'_"

Of course, Serena groaned, "Blair, I need the keys to your mom's house at the Hamptons. I just need some time to myself. Manhattan is driving me crazy."

"Alright, alright. You sure you don't want me to come with?" Blair asked, concerned.

"Don't you have a fashion show next week?" Serena couldn't help but sound disappointed.

"Yes, I do, Dorota! Who ordered this fabric?" Blair screamed.

"It's okay, B," Serena laughed, "I'll be fine on my own."

"I'll send over the keys, S, bye! Dorota, this is not a thrift store!"

Serena hung up with an idiotic smile on her face. A few days away at the beach sounded like heaven. And it would prevent her from having to see Nate until she'd fortified herself.

* * *

When he got to work, Nate found that Serena's office was empty.

"Serena's not coming in this morning," the receptionist said trying too hard not to drop the box of letters in her hand, "Should I put this on her desk?"

Nate blinked, "I'll take that," he took the box from her, "Fiona, is she okay?"

"Said she was taking some time off," Fiona smiled.

"Sure," he headed to his office. He guessed Serena had had enough of his shit.

Deciding to keep himself distracted, Nate grabbed handfuls of the envelopes and began sorting out the obvious checks from the other correspondence.

He was halfway through the pile when he came across an envelope addressed to Serena Rhodes. He frowned as he took in the scrawled name and address. There was no return address, and it obviously wasn't from a business.

Serena Rhodes? Rhodes was Lily's last name. No one who had any dealings with Serena would have called her anything but van der Woodsen.

Not sparing an ounce of guilt for opening her mail, he eased a letter opener into the corner and sliced the top. His gaze darted over the nearly illegible handwriting, and as he took it in, red-hot rage billowed over him.

_Give me the money, bitch. Your mother has a lot of it from what I hear, and I bet she'd be willing to part with quite a bit of it to keep her pretty daughter from getting hurt. We can do it the easy way or we can do it the hard way. Either way, I'll end up with the money. Your choice._

_ Love,_

_ Phil_

Nate stuffed the paper back into the envelope then folded it and shoved it into his pocket.

Some bastard had just threatened Serena. He had to get to her apartment right away. Make sure she was okay and then make sure she wasn't left alone.

Nate left the office and tore out of the parking lot like he was heading to a fire. He needed to call Diana and ask her if she had anything to do with the envelope, but first, he had to make sure Serena was okay and square things with her.

He saw her car still in the parking lot and wheeled in beside it. He rushed into elevator and paced impatiently as it moved like a snail. He dashed out as soon as it reached Serena's loft.

Eric was lounging on the couch with his laptop. He smiled when he saw Nate, "Nate, hey, Chuck's not here."

"Not Chuck. Is Serena home?" Nate snapped.

Eric widened his eyes, "Wow, looks like The Spectator can't function without my sister."

"Eric, I'm serious," Nate breathed, "Why isn't she answering her phone?"

"Serena is at the Hamptons," Eric said, not wanting to push his lick.

"Jesus Christ!" Nate growled as he pulled out his phone and dialed Diana's number.

* * *

By the time Nate arrived at the beach house, it was close to sunset. He pulled onto the paved circle drive and parked outside the steps leading up to the front door. As he got out, he eyed the bags he'd packed but decided to wait and take them in later.

He jogged up the steps and tapped at the door. Just then, his phone buzzed. It was Diana. Finally!

"Nate, this is a perfect opportunity," she began, "Some poor bastard wants her money. We can use Serena as bait, draw Gossip Girl out and nail her ass to the wall."

"Whoa, wait just a minute. We aren't using Serena as bait. Use your head. She's an innocent victim here. No way I'd place her in that kind of danger and we don't even know who we're dealing with here."

"_You _use your damn head," Diana hissed, "She's our best chance You shouldn't even think twice. You know it's a good idea."

Nate had to swallow the angry retort. He sucked in a breath and tried to remain calm, "Diana, you're worked up. You need to calm down and think rationally about this."

"You're thinking with your-"

"I will not involve Serena in this," Nate ground out, "I think it's best that I go to Bart and Lily and tell them everything. Get their help. I'll talk to you later."

Nate bit out a curse and stuffed the phone into his pocket.

This time when she didn't answer, he didn't waste any time letting himself in to make sure she was all right. He stepped into the spacious living room and took in the masculine décor.

When his gaze landed on the French doors leading out to the deck, he saw an arm draped over the side of a lounger. Serena's hand dangled and brushed the floor. He hurried, and when he got close enough, he could see that she was curled up asleep. Quietly, so as not to wake her, he eased outside, closing his eyes in appreciation when the sea breeze blew over his face.

But as his gaze lowered to Serena's sleeping form, his appreciation only grew. She looked beautiful. One hand dangled from the lounger, the other curled underneath her chin. Her chest rose and fell gently with each breath, and the breeze lifted the blond strands of her hair and blew them around her face.

All the way down here, he'd convinced himself that he'd tell her the truth no matter what. But now that he looked at her, so fragile and innocent, he felt himself waver.

Hell, hewanted to protect her. Wrap her in cotton and make sure nothing ever hurt her.

She wanted to be taken care of, and what man wouldn't want to? She was sweet, soft and delicate in all the right places. As he stood watching her, she stirred and moved restlessly on the lounger. Her eyes fluttered open. She blinked as she looked at him, and then her eyes widened in surprise.

"Nate?" she asked sleepily, "What are you doing here?"

He bent and ran a finger down her arm, "I hope you haven't been lying out here all day. You'll burn."

"Was in the shade most of the day," she mumbled, "What are you doing here? How did you know where I was?"

She shifted and sat up in the seat and continued to regard him with sleepy eyes.

"I wanted to talk to you," he said simply.

Her expression was disbelieving.

"I know I've acted like an ass," he said, "The fact is, Serena, you threw me for a loop."

He knelt on the wood deck, shifting his weight to alleviate the discomfort on his knees. She placed a gentle finger over his lips, and he was shocked into silence.

"Let's go inside to talk," she said.

He rose and held out his hand to help her up. Her hair, tousled by her nap, blew in the breeze, and he reached out to snag a tendril, unable to resist touching the silky tresses.

She turned and walked inside, leaving him to follow.

The cooler interior air brushed over his face as he stepped inside. Serena padded barefoot into the kitchen and opened the fridge.

"You want something to drink?" she asked, "There's beer, wine and some juice."

He shook his head then said, "No, I'm fine."

She poured herself a glass of juice then walked back into the living room where he stood. "So what did you want to talk to me about?"

He observed the slight tremble of her lips, something she tried to disguise by raising the glass to her mouth. She was nervous. Hell, so was he, but he didn't want her to feel uneasy with him.

He reached out and cupped his hand under her elbow, "Let's sit down."

She gazed at him with troubled eyes as if fearing what he'd say. Unable to help it, he leaned in, cupped the back of her neck with his hand and pulled her to him. Her glass pressed into his stomach, mashed between them as he captured her lips with his.

He swallowed the whispery sound of surprised pleasure that escaped her mouth. He tasted the tangy orange on her tongue, absorbed her flavor and savored it with every swipe of his tongue over hers.

When he pulled away, her unfocused gaze met his, confusion outlined in the depths of her eyes. Her mouth, now puffy from his kiss, tempted him again. Later, he told himself. He'd sample every inch of her skin.

He nudged her backward until her legs met the edge of the couch. Then he sat her down. Opting to stand, he moved a few steps back and began pacing, unable to control the anxious energy flowing through him.

"I made a mistake pushing you away," he said.

Her green eyes widened. She set her glass on the end table then folded her hands in her lap, clutching at her fingers until the tips were white.

He stopped pacing and looked directly at her, "I want what you want, Serena. You, in my bed, in my arms, my way."


	8. Chapter 8

** Hey guys! This chapter is inspired by the Crossfire series by Sylvia Day. Hope you enjoy and thanks as always for your wonderful support and reviews! Cheers :)**

* * *

Color surged into Serena's cheeks as she reacted to his blunt statement.

"No, Nate, you were right. I'm not sure if I want this. I don't know if I can give you what you want. All that mattered at the moment was," Serena looked at him nervously, "_You."_

Nate moved toward her, kneeling in front of her. He gathered her hands in his and raised her fingers to his lips, "Tell me which was hotter, Serena. Sex in the Shepherd wedding when you were in charge or sex in The House when I was?"

Serena shifted restlessly, sure of where the conversation was leading, "I thought you enjoyed what happened in the Shepherd wedding. While it was happening, I mean. Obviously not later," she flinched as the memories came back to her.

"I loved it," he said with quiet conviction, "The image of you in that white dress, moaning and telling me how good I felt inside you, will haunt me as long as I live. If you'd like to top me again in the future, I'm definitely game."

Serena blushed. Only Nate could ever make her feel this way.

"Do you have a safeword Serena?" Nate eyed her thoughtfully.

Serena's stomach tensed. The muscles in her shoulders began to knot, "Nate, I'm starting to freak out a little. All this talk of safewords and topping, it feels like this conversation is leading somewhere I'm not sure I can go."

"You're thinking of bondage and pain. I'm talking about a consensual power exchange," Nate studied her intently, "Would you like some wine? You're very pale."

"You think?" she set the drained glass down and pushed to her feet in a rush.

"Don't," he warned in a dark purr, "You're not running yet. We're not done."

"Nate, I wanted to be taken care of not bossed over," Serena shuddered at the thought of being under someone else's thumb- _losing her_ _right to say no!_ "My past is fucked up, Nate. Why do you think I'm the way I am?"

"Sit down, Serena."

She stayed on her feet, just to prove her point.

His smile widened and her insides melted, "Do you have any idea how crazy I am about you?" he murmured.

"You're crazy alright, if you think I'm going to put up with being ordered around."

"I know you're not a submissive, Serena. You know I don't want to beat you, punish you, hurt you, demean you, or order you around like a pet. Those aren't needs either of us has," he crossed his hands.

_God. _How could he be so wonderful and so insane at the same time? "I need control just as much as you do, Nate. It took me some time to realize that but-"

"What you need is someone to trust- No. Close your mouth, Serena. You'll wait until I'm finished."

Her protest spluttered into silence.

"You asked me to meet a need of yours and I'm agreeing. Now we need to-"

"If I'm not what you want, just spit it out!" Serena snapped, "Don't try and pretty it up with-"

Nate was on her before she could stumble back more than a couple steps. His mouth sealed over hers, his arms caged her.

Trapped, she could do nothing as he bent his knees and stroked her with the rigid length of his erection. Once, twice. The bite of his teeth on her covered nipple sent a shiver through her, while the clean scent of his warm skin intoxicated her. With a gasp, she sagged into his embrace.

"See how easily you submit when I take over?" his lips followed the arch of her brow, "And it feels good doesn't it? It feels right."

"That's not fair," she stared up at him. How could he expect her to respond any differently? As disturbed and confounded as she was, she was helplessly drawn to him.

"Of course it is. It's also true."

The longing Serena felt was so acute it was painful.

"I can't help it that you turn me on," she muttered.

"Serena. Let's be honest. You _want _me to have total control. It's important to you that you can trust me to take care of you. There's nothing wrong with that. The reverse is true for me- I need you to trust me enough to give up that control."

She couldn't think when he was pressed up against her, her body achingly aware of every hard inch of him, "You don't know me."

"We're not talking about games that get me off."

"Then we're talking about what gets _me _off? Is that what this is?"

"Yes. I thought so," he frowned, "You're upset. I didn't mean- damn it. I thought discussing this would help us."

"Nate," her eyes stung, then flooded with tears. He looked as wounded and confused as she felt, "You're breaking my heart."

Releasing her wrists, he stepped back and swept her up in his arms, carrying her down the living room to a closed door.

"Turn the knob," he said quietly.

They entered a room with a king- sized bed in the center. He put her to her feet, "I'm not easy, Serena. I'll push you. I'll demand things of you that you may not be sure you can give. If we do this, you'll give everything to me. In return, I'll take care of you. I'll see to your every need."

A slow blaze began to burn in her eyes as she studied him.

He paused to let his words sink in. Then he walked forward, standing right in front of her. He threaded his hand into her hair, twining the strands around his fingers as he caressed her.

"You'll be mine. _Mine. _You'll give your everything to me, and in return, I'll give you more than you can ever imagine. I'll take care of you, pleasure you, provide for you."

"Wow," she said after a shaky breath.

"Is that a yes?" he asked as he stroked through her hair.

Slowly she slid her hands up his chest and around his neck. Her fingers curled at his nape, and she dug her fingers into his hair. This was not just someone. This was Nate. She trusted him, felt safe with him. "Get naked. Like now!" Serena whispered.

Nate laughed as he toed off his shoes and yanked his shirt off.

"Oh my God!" Seeing him in the flesh- all of him, as his pants hit the floor. He was pure primal male, the embodiment of everything Serena coveted, fantasized about, and wished for, "I've died and gone to heaven," she said, staring unabashedly.

"You're still dressed," he attacked her clothes, whipping her loosened top off before she took a full breath. Her skirt was wrestled down in such a hurry that she lost her balance and fell on the bed. She barely caught her breath before he was on her.

They rolled across the mattress in a tangle. Everywhere he touched her left trails of fire behind. The clean, hardworking scent of his skin was divine and intoxicant at once, spurring her desire for him until she felt like she was about to lose her mind.

"You're so beautiful, Serena," he plumped one breast in his hand before taking her nipple into his mouth.

She cried out at the scorching heat and the lash of his tongue, her core tightening with every soft suck. Her hands were greedy as they slid over his skin, stroking and kneading, searching for the spots that made him growl and moan. She scissored her legs with his and tried to roll him, but he restrained her.

He lifted his head and smiled down at her, "Stop trying to prove your point."

What she felt for him in that moment, seeing that smile and the heat in his eyes, was so intense it was painful. Too fast, Serena thought. She was falling too fast. "Nate-"

He kissed her deeply, licking into her mouth in that way of his. She thought he could really make her come with just a kiss, if we stayed at it long enough. Everything about him turned her on, from the way he looked and felt beneath her hands to the way he watched her and touched her. His greed and the silent demands he made on her body, the forcefulness with which he pleasured her and took his pleasure in return, drove her wild.

"I love your body," he whispered, his lips moving across her cheek to her throat. His hand caressed the length of her torso from breasts to hip, "I can't get enough of it."

"You haven't had much of it yet," she teased.

"How about we rectify that?" Nibbling and licking across her shoulder, he slid down and caught her other nipple between his teeth. He tugged and the tiny dart of pain had her back arching on a soft cry. He soothed the sting with a soft suck, then kissed his way downward, "I've never wanted anything this badly."

"Then do me!"

"Not yet," he murmured, moving lower, rimming her navel with the tip of his tongue, "You're not ready yet."

"What? Ah, God! I can't get any readier," she tugged on his hair, trying to pull him up.

Nate caught her wrists and pinned them to the mattress, "I'll bruise you if I don't get you soft and relaxed."

A violent shiver of arousal moved through her. It turned her on when he talked so bluntly about sex. Then he slid lower and she tensed, "No, Nate. I need to shower for that."

He buried his face between her thighs and she struggled against his hold, flushed with sudden worry. This didn't feel like the countless other sexual encounters she'd had in her past. It mattered this time.

He nipped at her inner thigh with his teeth.

"Don't. Please. You don't have to do that."

His glare stilled her frantic movements, "Do you think I feel differently about your body than you do mine?" he asked harshly, "I want you, Serena."

She licked her dry lips, so crazily turned on by his animal need that she couldn't form a single word.

He growled softly and dove for the slick flesh between her legs. His tongue pushed into her, licking and parting the sensitive tissues. Her hip churned restlessly, her body silently begging for more. It felt so good she could've wept.

"God, Serena. I've wanted to do this every day since I met you."

As the velvet softness of his tongue flickered over her swollen sex, her head pressed hard into the pillow, "Make me come."

He did, with the gentlest of suction and a hard lick. She writhed as the orgasm jolted through her, her core tensing violently, her limbs shaking. His tongue thrust into her sex as it convulsed, rippling along the shallow penetration, trying to pull him deeper. His groans vibrated against her, goading the climax to roll on and on. Tears stung her eyes and coursed down, the physical pleasure destroying the wall that kept her emotions at bay.

And Nate didn't stop. He circled the trembling entrance to her body with the tip of his tongue and sucked until she quickened again. Two fingers pushed inside her, curving and stroking. She was so sensitive she thrashed against the ambush. When he drew on her sex with steady strokes, she came again, crying out hoarsely. Then he had three fingers in her, twisting and opening her.

"No," Her head tossed from side to side, every inch of her skin tingling and burning, "No more."

"Once more," he coaxed hoarsely, "Once more, then I'll fuck you."

"I can't-"

"You will," He blew a slow stream of air over her sex, the coolness over fevered skin reawakening raw nerve endings, "I love watching you come, Serena. Love hearing the sounds you make, the way your body moves."

He massaged a tender spot inside her and an orgasm pulsed through her in a slow, heated roll of delight, no less devastating for being gentler than the two before it.

His weight and heat left her. The mattress dipped as he returned, his hands rough now as he yanked her down to the center of the bed. He stretched himself on top of her, pinning her, capturing her.

Her gaze was riveted to his austerely beautiful face. His features were harsh with lust, his skin stretched tight over his cheekbones and jaw. His eyes were so dark and dilated they were black, and she knew she was staring into the face of a man who'd passed the limits of his control.

It was important to her that he'd made it that far for her benefit and that he'd done so to pleasure and prepare her for what she knew would be a hard ride.

Her hands fisted in the bedspread, anticipation building. He'd made sure she got hers, over and over again. This would be for him.

"Fuck me," she ordered, daring him with her eyes.

_ "Damn!" _he snapped as he rammed into her, sinking deep in one fierce drive.

She gasped. He was big, hard as stone, and so damn deep. The connection was startlingly intense. Emotionally. Mentally. She'd never felt so completely taken. Possessed.

Ever since Nate had knocked her off her high horse of being aware of her sexual needs, she had feared the thought of being restrained during sex, not with her past being what it was, but Nate's total domination of her body shot up her desire to an outrageous level.

She clenched around him, relishing the feel of him inside her, filling her.

His hips ground against her, prodding as if to say, _Feel me? I'm in you. I own you._

His entire body hardened, the muscles of his chest and arms straining as he pulled out to the tip. The rigid tightening of his abs was the only warning she got before he slammed forward. Hard.

She cried out and his chest rumbled with a low, primitive sound, "Christ! You feel so good."

Tightening his hold, he starting fucking her, nailing her hip to the mattress with wildly fierce drives. Pleasure rippled through her again, pushing through her with every hot shove of his body into hers.

He buried his face in her neck and held her tightly in place, plunging hard and fast, gasping raw, heated sex words that made her crazed with desire.

She made a small, helpless sound of need and his mouth slanted over hers. She was desperate for him, his nails digging into his pumping hip, struggling with the grinding urge to rock into the ferocious thrusts of his length.

They were dripping in sweat, their skin hot and slicked together, their chests heaving for air. As an orgasm brewed like a storm inside her, everything tightened and clenched, squeezing.

He cursed and shoved one hand beneath her hip, lifting her into his thrusts so that his length head stroked over and over the spot that ached for him.

"Come, Serena," he ordered harshly, "Come now."

She climaxed in a rush that had her sobbing his name, the sensation enhanced and magnified by the way he'd confined her body. He threw his head back, shuddering.

"Oh god!" he clasped her so tightly she couldn't breathe, his hip pumping as he came long and hard.

Serena had no idea how long they lay like that, leveled, mouths sliding over shoulders and throats to soothe and calm. Her entire body tingled and pulsed.

"Wow," she managed finally.

"You'll kill me," he muttered with his lips at her jaw, "We're going to end up fucking each other to death."

"Me? I didn't do anything." He'd controlled her completely and how freaking sexy was _that_?

"You're breathing. That's enough."

She giggled, hugging him.

Lifting his head, he nuzzled her nose, "We're going to eat, and then we'll do that again."

Her eyes widened, "You can do that again?"

"All night," he rolled his hips and she could feel that he was still semi-hard.

"You're a machine," she told him, "Or a god."

"It's you," With a soft sweet kiss, he left her, "We'll shower, then order from the restaurant down the street. Unless you want to go there?"

"I don't think I can walk."

The flash of his grin stopped her heart for a minute, "Glad I'm not the only one."

"You look fine."

"I feel phenomenal," He sat back on the side of the bed and brushed her hair back from her forehead. His face was soft, his smile warmly affectionate.

She thought she saw something else in his eyes and the possibility closed her throat. It scared her.

"Shower with me," he said, running his hand down her arm.

"Give me a minute to find my brain, then I'll join you."

"Okay," He went into the bathroom, giving her a prime view of his sculpted back. She sighed with pure appreciation.

The water came on in the shower. Serena managed to sit up and slide her legs over the side of the bed, feeling exquisitely shaky.

Her gaze caught on the slightly concealed envelope peeking out of Nate's pants that was strewn across the floor and she stilled at the familiar handwriting.

Her stomach twisted. How? With a slightly trembling hand, she pulled the envelope out. Her heart started pounding all over again.

Serena Rhodes. This could only mean one thing.

As she pushed to her feet and walked over to the closet, she heard the glass shower door open in the bathroom, then close. She caught the two knobs of the louvered walnut closet doors and pushed them apart. She grabbed a white top and sulked into it. She pulled on her skirt.

Maybe if she'd been less shaken by the depth of her feelings for Nate, she could have let this go. Maybe if they hadn't just had mind-blowing sex, she would have felt less raw and vulnerable.

She would never know. What she felt was slightly dirty, a little bit used, and a whole lot hurt. This particular revelation had hit her with excruciating force, and like a child, she wanted to hurt him back.

She tossed the envelope on the bed. Then, just as he called out her name in an amused voice, she walked out.

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**Yes, Serena has a dark past! It'll come up sooner or later ;) Hope you liked it. Xoxo :)**


	9. Chapter 9

******Warning: Chapter contains harsh abuse, language and dark themes! **

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Serena started walking with no direction or destination in mind. It was dark out now, the town taking on a whole new life and energy from what it had during the day.

With every step she took, the hurt somehow seemed to amplify. Phil was a part of her life she would not in her darkest dreams, go back to. She'd spent enough years in therapy to know better than to let the memories come flooding back.

Feeling sick, she stepped into an Italian restaurant and took a table. She ordered a glass of wine and a margherita, hoping wine and food would calm the vibrating anxiety inside her so that she could think properly.

When the waiter returned with her wine, she gulped it down like her life depended on it. She missed Nate already, missed the playful happy mood he'd been in when she left. His scent was all over her- the smell of his skin and hot, grinding sex. Her eyes stung and she let a few tears slide down her face, despite being in a very public, very busy restaurant.

Her food came and she picked at it. It tasted like cardboard, although she doubted that had anything to do with the chef or the venue.

She couldn't deal with her past all by herself. She wouldn't, she decided as she dug out her phone from her bag, intending to call her therapist. That's when she noticed the twenty one missed calls from Nate and a text- **I fucked up again. Don't run. Talk to me. Pls.**

The tears welled again. She held the phone to her heart, at a loss. How was she ever going to be able to let Nate in on her past? She winced as agonizing images flashed through her mind.

It was irrational and pointless to think of her past, and it made her feel filthy and small and physically sick.

She startled when the phone vibrated against her, nearly dropping it. She debated letting it go to voice mail because she could see on the screen that it was Nate but she couldn't ignore it, because he was clearly frantic.

As much as she'd wanted to wound him earlier, she couldn't stand to do it now.

"Hello," her voice didn't sound like hers, clogged as it was with tears and emotion.

"Serena! Thank God!" Nate sounded so anxious, "Where are you?"

Looking around, she didn't see anything that would tell her the name of the restaurant, "I don't know. I- I'm sorry, Nate."

"No, Serena. Don't. It's my fault. I need to find you. Can you describe where you're at? Did you walk?"

"Yes. I walked."

"I know which exit you took. Which way did you head?" He was breathing quickly and she could hear the sounds of traffic and car horns in the background.

"To the left."

"Did you turn any corners after that?"

"I don't think so. I don't know," she looked around for a server she could ask, "I'm in a restaurant. Italian. There's seating on the sidewalk and a wrought iron fence. French doors. Jesus, Nate, I-"

He appeared, silhouetted in the entrance with the phone held to his ear. She knew him immediately, watched as he froze when he saw her seated against the wall toward the back.

Shoving the phone into his pocket, he strode past the hostess who'd started speaking to him and headed straight for her. She barely managed to get to her feet before he hauled her against him and embraced her tightly.

"God," he shook slightly and buried his face in her neck.

She hugged him back. He was fresh from a shower, making her achingly aware of her need for one.

"We can't be here," he said hoarsely, pulling back to cup her face in his hands, "We can't be in public right now. Let's go home."

Something on her face must have betrayed her lingering wariness, because he pressed his lips to her forehead and murmured, "I won't say a word about the envelope."

She looked up at him and nodded.

* * *

Serena woke with a cry that was subdued by the palm pressed over her lips. A crushing weight cut off her air as another hand shoved up beneath her nightgown, groping and bruising. Panic gripped her and she thrashed, her legs kicking frantically.

_ No . . . Please, no . . . No more. Not again._

Panting like an animal, Phil heaved her legs apart. The hard thing between his legs poked blindly, thrusting into her inner thigh. She fought, her lungs burning, but he was so strong. She couldn't shove him off.

She couldn't run.

_ Stop it! Get off me. Don't touch me. Oh, God please don't do _that _to me! Ma-ma!_

Phil pressed down on her, squashing her head into the more she struggled, the more excited he became. Gasping horrible, nasty words in her ear, he found the tender spot between her legs and shoved into her, groaning.

She froze, locking in a vise of horrendous pain.

"Yes," he grunted, "Like it now, don't you? Hot little slut, you like it."

She couldn't breathe, her lungs shuddering with sobs, her nostrils plugged by the heel of his palm.

Spots danced before her eyes, her chest burned. She fought again- needing air- desperate for air.

"Serena! Wake up!"

Her eyes snapped open at the barked command. She wrenched herself away from the hands gripping her arms, gaining her freedom. She clawed away, fighting the sheets that bound her legs, tumbling down.

The jolting impact of hitting the floor woke her fully, and an awful sound of pain and fear scraped up through her throat.

"Christ! Serena, damn it. Don't hurt yourself!"

She sucked in air with deep gulps and scrambled toward the bathroom on all fours.

Nate scooped her up and gripped her to his chest, _"Serena."_

"Sick," she gasped, slapping a hand over her mouth as her stomach roiled.

"Shh! I've got you," he murmured, over and over, "It's okay. You're safe."

She rinsed out her mouth and dropped her toothbrush back into its holder, "I need a shower."

She'd taken one before she crashed, but now she felt dirty again. Cold sweat clung to her skin and when she closed her eyes, she could smell _him-_ Phil- on her.

Nate turned on the water, then started stripping, blessedly distracting her with the sight of his body.

She left her clothes where they fell and stepped beneath the steamy spray with a groan. He entered the stall behind her, brushing her hair aside and pressing a kiss to her shoulder, "How are you?"

"Better."

His arms wrapped carefully around her waist and he released a shaky exhalation, "I- Jesus, Serena. What were you dreaming about?"

"May be one day," she breathed.

He inhaled sharply, his fingertips flexing against her hip. They stood there for a long moment, surrounded by steam and secrets, physically close yet emotionally distant. Serena hated it.

The urge to cry was overwhelming and she didn't fight it. It felt good to get it out. All the pressure of the long day seemed to flow out of her as she sobbed.

"Serena," Nate pressed into her back, his arms tight around her waist, soothing her, "Don't cry. God. I can't take it. Tell me what you want, Serena. What can I do?"

"I want you," she stretched out against him, aligning her body to his. Pressing her face into his damp throat, she sucked gently on his skin. She knew from her therapy that being held and loved could push the nightmares back into the closet for a little while.

His arms came around her, his hands running up and down the curve of her spine. She felt him let go of the dream with a long, deep sigh.

Pushing him to the wall, she pressed over him and sealed her mouth over his. His erection was notched between the lips of her sex and she rocked against him.

The feel of his hands in her hair, holding her to take control of the kiss, quickly made her wet and ready. Fire licked just beneath her skin. She stroked herself up and down his thick length, using him to masturbate until he made a rough sound of desire and succumbed.


	10. Chapter 10

**Hey guys! Thank you for the reviews! Hope you like this chapter. Cheers :)**

* * *

When Serena entered her office, she saw a small photo collage frame lying on the desktop next to a box of chocolate covered strawberries and her face split into an ecstatic smile.

The frame held three photos of Nate and her together at the Hamptons.

She dug her phone out of her purse, driven by the need to have him thinking as fiercely about her, she texted him about her sudden desperate hunger to devour him whole: **I'd give anything to go down on you right now.**

Just thinking about how he looked when she took him in her mouth and the feral sounds he made when he was about to come made her week in the knees.

When it was noon, she closed all the windows on her computer and headed out to reception to find Blair.

"You hungry for anything in particular, S?" Blair asked, pushing to her feet and giving her a chance to admire her belted, sleeveless lavender dress.

Serena coughed because her question made her think about her text, "No. Your choice. I'm not picky."

They pushed out through the glass doors to reach the elevators. They'd just stepped out into the lobby when Serena felt her purse vibrate beneath her arm.

As they passed through the turnstiles, she dug for her phone and felt her stomach tighten at the sight of Nate's name. He was calling, not sexting her back.

"I should take this," she said to Blair before answering.

Blair waved it off nonchalantly, "Go for it."

"Hey," she greeted him playfully.

_ "Serena."_

She missed a step hearing the way he growled her name. There was a wealth of promise in the roughness of his voice.

Slowing, she found she was speechless, just from hearing him say her name with that edginess she craved- the sharp bite that told her he wanted to be inside her more than he wanted anything else in the world.

The memory of the time she'd sucked him off in The House simmered through her, making her mouth water. She swallowed, "Nate-"

"You wanted my attention and now you have it. I want to hear you say those words."

She felt her face flush, "I can't. Not here. Let me call you later."

"Step over by the column and out of the way."

Startled, she looked around for him. Then she remembered that the Caller ID put him in his office. Her gaze lifted, searching for the security cameras. Immediately, she felt his eyes on her, hot and wanting.

Arousal surged through her, spurred by his desire.

"Hurry along, angel. Blair is waiting."

She moved to the column, her breathing fast and audible.

"Now tell me. Your text made me hard, Serena. What are you going to do about it?"

Her hand went to her throat, her gaze sliding helplessly to Blair, who watched her with raised brows. She lifted one finger up, asking for another minute, then turned her back to her and whispered, "I want you in my mouth."

"Why? To play with me? To tease me like you're doing now?" There was no heat in his voice, just calm severity.

She knew to pay careful attention when Nate got serious about sex.

"No," Serena lifted her face to the tinted dome in the ceiling that concealed the nearest security camera, "To make you come. I love making you come, Nate."

He exhaled harshly, "A gift, then."

"Always."

"Good. Because I treasure you, Serena, and what we have. Even our driving urge to fuck each other constantly is precious to me, because it matters."

She sagged into the column, admitting to herself that she'd scored a one way ticket to Lalaland. Damn.

"Yes," she breathed, closing her eyes, "It matters."

There'd been a time when she'd turned to sex to feel affection, confusing momentary desire with genuine caring. But what she shared with Nate was different and apparently he felt the same. Even though she was keeping so many secrets from him and he was making it damn obvious that he hated it, she sure as hell didn't want to cheapen what she shared with him.

It hit her then that she was off balance. She had this sick feeling in her gut, like something awful was going to happen.

"You can have what you want after work, Serena," his voice deepened, grew raspier, "In the meantime, enjoy lunch with Blair. I'll be thinking about you. And your mouth."

"Goodbye, Nate."

Serena took a couple of deep breaths after she hung up to compose herself enough to join Blair again.

"I'm sorry about that."

"You've been gone for a week," Blair scrutinized her, "And you look like you've had too much of screaming, sheet- clawing sex."

Xxx

Things were going well in Serena's world as she and Blair headed back from lunch. Forty minutes of gossip, guy-ogling, Chuck- Nate talk and three awesome tacos later, she had managed to completely forget about the envelope. And she was returning to work a little over ten minutes early, which she was glad for since she hadn't been the most punctual employee lately, even though Nate never complained.

The city was thrumming around them, taxis and people surging through the growing heat and humidity as they crammed what they could into the insufficient hours of the day. Men in business suits walked alongside women in flowing skirts and flip-flops. Ladies in haute couture and five-hundred-dollar shoes teetered past steaming hot dog vendor carts and shouting hawkers.

The eclectic mix of New York was heaven to her, stirring an excitement that made her feel more vibrant here than any place else.

They were stopped by a traffic light directly across from The Spectator. Her phone beeped with a Gossip Girl blast and she went cold.

Because in one of the snaps, standing outside The Spectator, was a striking brunette- Diana. A woman whose poise and hold over Nate brought out all her worst insecurities.

Her eyes scarcely caught the words: **_We wonder what S has got to say. _**

Diana looked like a breath of fresh air in a cream-colored sheath dress and cherry red heels. Her hair looked a little disheveled. And her fingers were rubbing at her mouth, wiping along the outline of her lips.

As she enlarged the photo, she could see why she was fussing with her lipstick- it was smeared. No, more like mashed. As if from a passionate kiss.

The light changed. Blair and Serena moved with the flow, closing the distance between them and The Spectator. Serena's gaze immediately was drawn to Nate's black Bentley that was sitting in front of the building.

The driver stepped out of the Bentley and came around. Diana was standing right outside the revolving doors. The feeling of betrayal was so fierce, Serena couldn't catch her breath. She swayed on her feet.

"Hey," Blair caught her arm to steady her, "What is it?"

"Guess it's the margaritas," she lied.

She watched Diana's willowy body slide into the back of Nate's car with practiced grace. Her fists clenched as fury surged through her. Through the haze of her angry tears, the Bentley pulled away from the curb and disappeared.

Serena stepped into an elevator, and hit the button.

"Tell Nate I said hi," Blair said, playfully.

Serena managed a smile before the doors closed and the elevator continued its ascent. When it reached her floor, she exited into the entrance foyer.

She took the hallway that led to Nate, stopping at the reception. Fiona stood as she approached. "Hello, Serena," she greeted her, reaching for her phone, "I'll let him know you're here."

The glass wall that separated Nate's office from the rest of the floor was usually crystal clear but could be made opaque with the push of a button. It was frosted now, which increased her uneasiness, "Is he alone?"

"Yes, but-"

Whatever else Fiona said was lost as she pushed through the glass door and into Nate's office. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city on two sides. The one solid wall opposite the immense desk was covered in flat screens streaming news channels from around the world.

Her gaze swept the room and caught on the throw pillow that had been carelessly knocked to the floor. Beside it were indents in the area rug that betrayed where the couch feet were usually planted. The piece of furniture had, apparently, been bumped askew by a few inches.

Her heart rate sped up and her palms grew damp. That awful anxiety she'd felt earlier intensified.

She had just noticed the open door to the washroom when Nate stepped into view, stealing her breath with the beauty of his exposed chest. His hair was damp, as if from a recent shower, and his neck was still flushed, as it became when he exerted himself physically.

He froze when he saw her, his gaze darkening for an instant before his perfect, implacable mask slid effortlessly into place.

"It's not a good time, Serena," he said, shrugging into a dress shirt he'd had draped over the back of a bar stool- a different shirt from the one he'd been wearing earlier that morning, "I'm running late to an appointment."

She gripped her purse tightly. Seeing him so intimately brought home how badly she wanted him. She needed him insanely like she needed to breathe. She wasn't going to let Diana or anyone else lure him away from her. "Why are you half dressed?"

There was no help for it. Her body responded instinctively to the sight of his, which made it even harder for her to control her rioting emotions.

"I got something on my shirt," he began buttoning up, his abs flexing with his movements as he crossed over to his desk, where she saw his cuff links waiting, "I have to run. If you need something, let Fiona know and she'll see to it. Or I'll take care of it when I get back. I shouldn't be more than two hours."

"Why are you running late?"

He didn't look at her when he answered, "I had to squeeze in a last minute meeting."

_ Did you now? _"You showered this morning." After making love to her for an hour."Why did you have to shower again?"

"Why the inquisition?" he snapped.

Needing answers, she went to the washroom. The lingering humidity was oppressive. Ignoring the voice in her head telling her not to look for trouble she couldn't bear to find, she dug his shirt out of the laundry basket and saw red lipstick smeared like a bloodstain on one of the cuffs. Pain twisted through her chest.

Dropping the garment on the floor, she pivoted and left, needing to get as far away from Nate as possible. Before she threw up or started sobbing.

"Serena!" he snapped as she hurried past him, "What the hell is the matter with you?"

"Screw you."

"Excuse me?"

Her hand was on the door handle when he caught her, yanking her back by the elbow. Spinning, she slapped him with enough force to turn his head and set her palm on fire.

"Fuck," he growled, grabbing her by the arms and shaking her, "Don't hit me!"

"Don't touch me!" the feel of his bare hands on the bare skin of her arms was too much.

He shoved back and away from her, "What the fuck's gotten into you?"

"I _saw _Gossip Girl, Nate."

He scowled, "What are you talking about?"

Pulling her phone out, she thrust the photo in his face, "Busted."

Nate's gaze narrowed on the screen, and then his scowl cleared, "Busted doing what, exactly?" he asked.

"Oh, screw you!" she turned toward the door, shoving her phone in her purse, "I'm not spelling it out for you."

His palm slapped against the glass, holding the door closed. Caging her with his body, he leaned down and hissed in her ear, "Yes. Yes, you will damn well spell it out."

She squeezed her eyes shut as their position at the door brought back a flood of heated memories from the first time Nate had kissed her in her office.

"Doesn't a picture say a thousand words?" she bit out through clenched teeth.

"So Diana was manhandled. What does that have to do with me?"

"Are you kidding me? Let me out."

"I don't find anything even remotely funny about this. In fact, I don't think I've ever been this pissed off at a woman. You come in here with your half-assed accusations and self-righteous bullshit-"

She twisted around and ducked beneath his arm, putting some much-needed distance between them. Being close to him hurt too much.

"Yes, I am righteous! I would never cheat on you! If I wanted to fuck around, I'd break it off with you first," Serena blurted.

Leaning into the door, Nate crossed his arms. His shirt remained un- tucked and open at the collar, a look she found hot and tempting, which only made her angrier.

"You think I cheated on you?" his tone was clipped and icy.

She sucked in a deep breath to get through the pain of imagining him with Diana on the sofa behind her, "Explain to me why she was here, looking like she did. Why your office looks like this. Why you look like that."

His gaze went to the couch, then to the cushion on the floor, then back to her, "I don't know why Diana was here or why she looked like that. I haven't seen her since last week."

She swiped angrily at a tear that slid down her cheek.

He growled, "You think I was with her just because Gossip Girl said so?"

Serena's arms crossed in front of her, "I saw Diana get into the Bentley, Nate. Right before I came up here."

His eye brows shot up, "Did you?"

"Yes, I did. Can you explain that?"

"I can't, no."

Injured fury burned through her. She suddenly couldn't bear to even look at him, "Then get out of my way, I have to get back to work."

He didn't move, "I just want to be clear on something before you go. Do you believe I fucked her?"

Hearing him say it aloud made her flinch, "I don't know what to believe. The evidence sure-"

"I wouldn't care if the 'evidence' included you finding me and her naked in a bed together!" he uncoiled so swiftly, she stumbled back in surprise. He stalked closer, "I want to know if you think I fucked her. If you think I would. Or could. Do you?"

Her foot began to tap, but she didn't retreat, "Explain the lipstick on your shirt, Nate."

His jaw tightened, "No."

"Why not?"

"Answer my question."

She studied his face and saw the mask he wore around other people but had never worn with her.

He reached his hand toward her as if to brush her cheek with his fingertips, then pulled back at the last minute. In that brief instant in which he pulled away, she heard his teeth grind, as if _not _touching her was a struggle.

"I _need _you to explain," she whispered, wondering if she imagined the wince that crossed his face.

"I've given you no reason to doubt me."

"You're giving me one now." Serena exhaled in a rush, deflating.

"If you don't trust me-"

"Trust goes both ways, Nate."

"Does it?" he sucked in a deep breath, "Then tell me about your dreams, Serena. Tell me about the envelope, your past and your secrets. Don't spare the details."

Serena glared at him and stormed off. Nate didn't stop her.

* * *

**Oooh! Do you guys think Nate cheated on Serena?! Hope you enjoyed :) R&R!**


	11. Chapter 11

** Sorry for the delay, guys! Chapter contains graphic smut. Hope you like it. Cheers :)**

* * *

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead," Blair sing- songed as she yanked the comforter off of Serena.

"Ugh. Go away."

"You've got five minutes to get your ass up and in the shower, or the shower's coming to you."

Opening one eye, she peeked up at Blair. She was up and dressed, wearing a gorgeous Walter Mint chiffon dress. As far as wake-up calls went, she was prime.

"Why do I have to get up?"

"Because when you're flat on your back you're not on your feet."

"Wow. That was deep, B."

She crossed her arms and shot her an arch look, "We need to go shopping."

Serena buried her face in the pillow, "No."

"Yes. I seem to remember Chuck saying this was a 'Sunday garden party'."

Serena suddenly remembered that she had agreed to take Dan to the Annual Media Guild. Where else would Dan be than in an event where all the writers in New York gathered?

"Ah, well. Did he also mention that Diana would be there?"

"Even better! So what are you wearing?"

"I- I don't know. I was leaning toward the 'English tea with hat' look, but now I'm not so sure."

She gave a brisk nod, "Right. Let's hit the shops and find something sexy and classy."

Growling a token protest, Serena rolled out of bed and padded over to the bathroom. It was impossible to shower without thinking of Nate, without picturing his perfect body and remembering the desperate sounds he made when he came in her mouth.

Everywhere she looked, Nate was there. She'd even started hallucinating black Bentleys all around town.

Blair and Serena had lunch. Then they bounced all over the city, hitting the best of the Upper East Side boutiques. Blair had two teenage girls ask for her autograph, which made her ecstatic.

"Told you," she crooned

"Told me what?"

"They recognize me from your article on Spectator," Blair rolled her eyes, "I wouldn't want you to quit just because Nate cheated on you."

"Glad my love life is working out for someone," Serena snorted, "And I never said he cheated on me I just said I think he did."

* * *

"Are you nervous?" Dan asked her.

Serena glanced at him, "Not really. Nate won't be there."

"You're sure about that?"

"I wouldn't be going if I thought otherwise. I do have some pride you know," she watched him drum his fingers on the armrest between their seats. She scrutinized his black leather tie. She'd teased him mercilessly about it.

He caught her looking at it, "What? You still don't like my tie? I think it works well with the emo jeans and my lounge lizard jacket."

"Dan," her lips quirked, "You look fine."

"So do you," he smirked, "It's a shame Nate won't see you today."

The dress had seemed perfect when they'd found it. It was cut in a classic garden party style- fitted bodice with a knee-length skirt that flared out from the waist. The edginess came from the strapless form, the alternating layers of black and crimson satin underskirts that gave it volume.

Blair had picked the red Jimmy Choo peep-toe pumps out of her closet and the ruby drop earrings to give it all the finishing touch. She'd decided to leave her hair loose around her shoulders, in case they arrived and learned that hats were required. Over all, Serena felt pretty and confident enough to take on Diana.

Upon entering the sprawling Tudor-style mansion, they were greeted by flashes as photographers clicked away to glory. Serena posed gracefully with Dan sulking by her side.

She could recognize many faces as they moved across the front lawn.

"Serena!" Lily drew her toward her, then air-kissed both of her cheeks, "I love your dress."

"Mom, hey," she said awkwardly.

"And Dan," she dragged, her smile fading, "Nice to see you here."

Dan smiled and excused himself.

"Can you at least attempt to be nice to him?"

"Isn't Nate coming?" Lily ignored her question.

"Not that I'm aware of."

A tall, dark haired girl waved at her and Serena used it to escape Lily's scrutiny. She sipped champagne and chatted with everyone who stopped by to strike up a conversation.

There were a lot of writers at the party whose work she was familiar with, and she watched them covertly, a bit star-struck. For all the elegance of the surroundings and the endless number of butlers, the overall vibe was casual and relaxed.

She was starting to enjoy herself when someone she'd hoped never to see again stepped out of the house onto the terrace- Diana- looking phenomenal in a rose-hued chiffon gown that floated around her knees.

The live band began playing _I've got you under my skin_ and Dan appeared beside her, "Time to make me look good."

"I'll try my best," she smiled gratefully for the distraction.

Dan led her to the dance floor and pulled her into a swift foxtrot. It took her a minute to get into it, because she'd been stiff and tight with misery for days. Then the impulses kicked in and they glided across the floor with sweeping steps.

When the singer's voice faded with the music, they stopped, breathless. They were pleasantly surprised by applause. Dan gave an elegant bow and Serena held on to his hand for stability as she dipped into a curtsy.

When she lifted her head and straightened, she found Nate standing in front of her. Startled, she stumbled back a step. He was seriously underdressed in jeans and an untucked white dress shirt that was open at the collar and rolled up at the sleeves, but he was so damn hot he still put every other man in attendance to shame.

The tremendous yearning she felt at the sight of him overwhelmed her. Distantly she was aware of someone pulling Dan away, but she couldn't tear her gaze away from Nate, whose wildly blue eyes burned into hers.

"What are you doing here?" he snapped, scowling.

She recoiled from his harshness, "Excuse me?"

"You shouldn't be here," he grabbed her by the elbow and started hauling her toward the mansion, "I don't want you here."

She yanked her arm free of him and walked briskly toward the house with her head held high, praying she could make it to the privacy of the car before the tears started falling.

"Serena, wait."

Her shoulders hunched at the sound of Nate's voice and she refused to look at him. "Get lost. I can show myself out."

"I'm not done-"

"I am!" she pivoted to face him, "You don't get to talk to me that way. Who do you think you are? You think I came here for _you_? That I was hoping I'd see you? Maybe I'd be able to harass you into a quick, dirty fuck in a corner somewhere in a pitiful effort to win you back?"

"Shut up, Serena," his gaze was scorching hot, his jaw tight and hard, "Listen to me-"

"I'm only here because I was told you _wouldn't _be. I'm here for Dan and his career. So you can go back to the party and forget about me all over again. I assure you, when I walk out the door, I'll be doing the same to you."

"Shut your damned mouth," he caught her by the elbows and shook me so hard her teeth snapped together, "Just shut up and let me talk."

"Don't touch me."

With a growl, Nate hauled her into him and kissed her hard, bruising her lips. His hand was in her hair, fisting it roughly, holding her in place so she couldn't turn away. She shoved at his shoulders with everything she had, but she couldn't budge him.

Nate kissed her as if he was starved for the taste of her and her resistance began to melt. He smelled so good, so familiar. His body felt so perfectly _right _against hers. Her nipples betrayed her, hardening into tight points, and a slow, hot trickle of arousal gathered in her core. Her heart thundered in her chest.

God, she wanted him. The craving hadn't gone away, not even for a minute.

He picked her up. Imprisoned by his tight grip, it was hard to breathe and her head began to spin. When he carried her through a door and kicked it shut behind him, she couldn't do more than make a feeble sound of protest.

She found herself pressed against a heavy glass door on the other side of a library, Nate's hard and powerful body subduing her own. His arm at her waist slid lower, his hand delving beneath her skirts and finding the curves of her butt exposed by her lacy lingerie. He wrenched her hips hard to his, making her feel how hard he was, how aroused. Her sex trembled with want, achingly empty.

All the fight left her. Her arms fell to her sides, her palms pressing flat to the glass. She felt the brittle tension drain from his body as she softened in surrender, the pressure of his mouth easing and his kiss turning into a passionate coaxing.

"Serena," he breathed gruffly, "Don't fight me. I can't take it."

Her eyes closed, "Let me go, Nate."

He nuzzled his cheek against hers, his breath gusting hard and fast over her ear, "I can't. I know that what you saw might have given you the wrong idea but you need to trust me."

"Yeah? I'd like to see what you would do," she frowned, "if you came over to my place and caught an ex-boyfriend stepping outside still tucking his shirt in his pants. Then, when you came upstairs, you found my couch messed up and me fresh from a shower."

Nate's jaw tightened, "Neither of us wants to see what I'd do."

Serena smirked triumphantly.

"I need you," his mouth was sliding over her cheek and down her throat, "I need to be inside you."

"_No. _My God. Not here," But her protest sounded weak even to her own ears. She wanted him anywhere, anytime, any way…

"It has to be here," he muttered, dropping to his knees, "It has to be now."

He chafed her skin ripping the lace of her panties away, then he shoved her skirts to her waist and licked her sex.

She gasped and tried to recoil, but there was nowhere to go. Not with the door at her back and a grimly determined Nate in front, one hand keeping her pinned while the other lifted her left leg over his shoulder, opening her to his ardent mouth.

Her head thudded against the glass, heat pulsing through her blood from the point where his tongue was driving her mad. Her leg flexed against his back, urging him closer, her hands cupping his head to hold him still as she rocked into him. Feeling the rough satin strands of his hair against her sensitive inner thighs was its own provocation, heightening her awareness of everything around her.

They were in the midst of a party attended by dozens of famous people, and he was on his knees, growling his hunger as he licked and sucked her.

He knew just how to get to her, knew what she liked and needed. He had an understanding of her nature that went above and beyond his incredible oral skills. The combination was devastating and addicting.

Her body shook, her eyelids heavy from the illicit pleasure, "Yes," she hissed, feeling the orgasm building. She was buzzed by champagne and the heated scent of Nate's skin. Her breasts strained within the increasingly tight confines of her strapless bra, her body trembling on the edge of a desperately needed orgasm, "I'm so close."

A movement on the far side of the room caught her eye and she froze, her gaze locking with Diana's. She stood just inside the door, halted midstride, staring wide- eyed and openmouthed at the back of Nate's moving head.

But he was either oblivious or too impassioned to care. Everything tightened viciously, then released in a fiery burst of pleasure. The orgasm poured through her in a scorching wave. She cried out, lost to the primal connection between them. Nate held her up as her knees weakened, tonguing her quivering flesh until the last tremor faded.

When she opened her eyes again, her audience of one had fled.

Nate nuzzled her breasts, "When you're not with me, I feel- Don't run anymore, Serena. I can't take it. Come home with me now."

"I can't leave Dan."

"Then we'll drag him out of here with us. Shh…Before you complain, whatever he hopes to get out of this party, I can make happen. Being here accomplishes nothing."

"Maybe he's having fun."

"I don't want you here," he suddenly seemed distant, his tone far too controlled.

"What's wrong with me that you don't want to be seen with me?" she winced.

"Angel, no," he hugged her, his hands roaming her back in soothing caresses, "There's nothing wrong with you. It's just- it's dangerous for you to be here."

"What?" her stomach knotted with worry and confusion, "Dangerous how?"

Something in her voice lured him to press a kiss between her eyebrows, "I've been rough with you today. I'm sorry. I'm edgy and agitated being here, but that's no excuse."

When she finally let go of him, she was shocked to feel how wet she was, how copiously she'd come. A moment later, two audacious droplets fell to the hardwood floor between her spread legs.

"Oh, shit!" he groaned, "That's so damn hot. I'm getting hard."

She stared at the brazen display of his virility and felt warm, "We're in a public event, Nate."

"Hell if we are," he ripped open his button-fly and pulled his length out, and she didn't care where he took her just so long as he did. She whimpered as he shoved into her, her body struggling to accommodate the wonderful fullness she craved. Yanking her hip to meet his powerful thrusts, Nate battered her tender sex with that brutally thick column of rigid flesh, his gaze dark and possessive, his breath leaving him in primitive grunts every time he hit the end of her.

A trembling moan left her, the friction of his drives stirring her need to be fucked senseless by him. Only him.

She was distantly aware of the helpless noises spilling from her throat and the long case clock near the door chiming the hour. Her senses were overloaded by Nate's scent and the heat of his body, the feel of his length rubbing inside her and his arms encircling her. She was surrounded by him, filled with him, blissfully possessed in every way. A climax was building in force, pounding through her. His body stilled and she made a sound of protest.

"Hush," he whispered, "Someone's coming."

"Oh God! Diana came in earlier and saw us. What if she told-"

"Don't move," Nate didn't let her go. He stood just as he was, filling her front, his hand caressing the length of her spine and smoothing her dress down, "Your skirts hide everything."

With her back to the room's entrance, she pressed her flaming face into his shirt.

The door opened. There was a pause then, "Is everything all right?" It was Chuck_. _Serna felt awkward being unable to turn around.

"Of course," Nate said smoothly, coolly in control, "What do you want?"

To her horror, he resumed the push and withdrawal of his length. Not with the deep strokes of before, but slow shallow thrusts that didn't disturb her skirts. Already aroused to a fever pitch and hovering on the verge of orgasm, her nails dug into his neck. The tension in her body from having Chuck in the room only ramped up the erotic sensations.

"Serena?" Chuck asked.

She swallowed hard, "Yes?"

"Are you okay?"

Nate adjusted his stance, which moved his length further inside her.

"Y-yes. We're just- talking. About. Dinner." Her eyes closed as Nate's fingertip grazed her thighs.

Nate's chest vibrated against her cheek as he spoke, "We'd be done sooner if you'd go, so tell me what you need."

"Everyone's looking for you."

"Why?" Nate shifted again, rocking into her sex. She climaxed. Afraid of the wail of pleasure that wanted out of her, she bit her lip.

Nate grunted softly and started coming, his length jerking into her. The rest of the conversation was lost beneath the roar of her blood. Chuck said something, Nate replied, and then the door shut again. She was lifted to sit on the armrest and Nate started thrusting between her spread thighs, growling in her mouth as they finished off the rawest, most exhibitionistic sexual encounter of her life.


	12. Chapter 12

**Hey guys! Here's chapter 12. I must warn you that it's quite dark. Hope you like it :)**

* * *

Five o'clock found Serena steeling herself to divulge her secrets. She was tense and somber when she and Nate slid into the Bentley, and her disquiet only worsened when she felt him studying the side of her averted face. When he took her hand and lifted it to his lips, she felt like crying.

She was still trying to adjust after their argument in the party, and the mind- blowing sex that had followed but that was the least of what they had to deal with.

They didn't speak until they arrived at his apartment. When they entered his home, he led her straight through his living room and down the hall to his bedroom. There, laid out on the bed, was a fabulous cocktail dress the color of Nate's eyes.

"I had a little time to shop yesterday," he explained.

Her eyes lifted slightly, softened by pleasure at his thoughtfulness, "You were going to ask me to the guild?"

He brushed her hair aside, "You can wear something of mine. Get comfortable. When you're ready, we'll talk."

"I'm taking a shower." She wished they could separate what happened in the party from what she had to tell him so that each issue was dealt with on its own merits, but she didn't have a choice. Every day was another opportunity for someone else to tell Nate what he needed to hear from her.

"Make yourself at home."

As she kicked off her heels and moved into the bathroom, she felt the weight of his concern, but her revelations would have to hold until she could compose herself better. In an effort to gain that control, she took her time in the shower.

When she was done, she wrapped a towel around her and found Nate standing by the couch in the living room. He'd changed into black pajama bottoms that hung low around his hips. He was shirtless. A small blaze flickered in the fireplace and a bottle of wine sat in an ice-filled bucket on the coffee table. A grouping of ivory candles had been clustered as a centerpiece, their golden glow the only illumination besides the fire.

"Excuse me," she said from the threshold of the room, "Did I just enter an alternate universe were men are creepily romantic."

He grinned sheepishly, a boyish smile so at odds with the mature sexuality of his bared body.

"I don't think about it that way. I just try to guess what might please you, and then I give it a shot and hope for the best."

"_You _please me," she crossed to him.

"I want to," he said soberly, "I'm working on it."

Stopping in front of him, she drank in the beauty of his face and the sexy way the ends of his hair caressed the top of his shoulders. She ran her palms down his biceps, squeezing the hard muscle gently before stepping into him and pressing her face into his chest.

"Hey," he murmured, wrapping his arms around her, "Is this about me being an ass? Or whatever it is you need to say to me? Talk to me, Serena, so I can tell you it'll be okay."

She nuzzled her nose in his chest, feeling, breathing in the reassuring, familiar scent of his skin, "You should sit down. I have to tell you things about me. Ugly things."

Nate reluctantly let her go when she pulled away from him. She curled up on his couch with her legs tucked underneath her and he poured them both glasses of golden wine before taking a seat.

Leaning toward her, he draped one arm over the back of the sofa and held his glass with the other hand, giving her every bit of his attention.

"Okay. Here goes," Serena took a deep breath before starting, feeling dizzy from the elevated rate of her pulse. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been so nervous or sick to her stomach.

"I really don't know too much about how my mother and father met or split because neither of them talks about it. My mom came from money. Not as much as she married into, but more than most people have. She was a debutante. Had the whole white dress and presentation thing and everything."

She looked down into her glass, "Even with two kids in tow, she was able to land herself a millionaire. He was a widower with a son just two years older than me, so I think they both thought they'd found the perfect arrangement. He traveled a lot and was rarely home, and my mom spent his money and took over raising his son."

"I understand the need for money, Serena. It gives you security. Control."

Their eyes met. Something passed between them with that small admission. It made it easier for her to say what came next.

"I was ten the first time my stepbrother raped me-"

The stem of Nate's glass snapped in his hand. He moved so swiftly he was a blur, catching the bowl of his goblet against his thigh before it spilled its contents.

Serena scrambled to her feet when he rose to his, "Did you cut yourself? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he bit out. He went into the kitchen and threw the broken glass away, shattering it further. She set her own glass down carefully, her hands shaking. She heard cupboards opening and closing. A few minutes later Nate returned with a tumbler of something darker in his hand.

"Sit down, Serena."

She stared at him. His frame was rigid, his eyes icy cold. He scrubbed a hand over his face and said more gently, "Sit down. Please."

Serena's knees gave out and she sat on the edge of the sofa, pulling the towel tighter around her. Nate remained standing, taking a large swallow of whatever was in his hand. "You said the first time. How many times were there?"

She took conscious breaths, trying to calm herself, "I don't know. I lost count."

"Did you tell anyone? Did you tell your mother?"

"No. My God, if she'd known, she would've gotten me out of there. But Phil made sure I was too afraid to tell her," She tried to swallow past a tight, dry throat and winced at the painful sandpapery burn.

When her voice came again, it was barely a whisper, "There was a time when it got so bad I almost told her anyway, but he knew. Phil could tell I was close. So he broke my cat's neck and left her on my bed."

"Jesus Christ." His chest was heaving, "He wasn't just fucked up, he was insane. And he was touching you, Serena!"

"The servants had to know," she went on numbly, staring at her twisted hands. She just wanted to get it over with, to get it all out so she could put it back into the box in her mind where she forgot about it in her day-to-day life, "The fact that they didn't say anything either told me they were scared, too. They were grownups and they didn't say a word. I was a child. What could I do if they wouldn't do anything?"

"How did you get out?" he asked hoarsely, "When did it end?"

"When I was fourteen. I thought I was having my period, but there was too much blood. My mother panicked and took me to the emergency room. I'd had a miscarriage. In the course of the exam they found evidence of other trauma. Scarring and-"

Nate set his glass down on the end table with a harsh thud.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, feeling like she might be sick, "I'd spare you the details, but you need to know what someone might dig up. The hospital reported the abuse to child services. It's all a matter of public record, which has been sealed, but there are people who know the story. When my mom married Bart, he went back and tightened those seals, paid out in return for nondisclosure agreements and stuff like that. But you have a right to know that this could come out. I mean we have Gossip Girl and now that Phil is back in the picture. I didn't want to embarrass you."

"_Embarrass _me?" he snapped, vibrating with rage, "Embarrassment isn't on the list of what I'd feel."

"Nate-"

"I would destroy the career of any reporter who wrote about this, and then I'd dismantle the publication that ran the piece." He was so cold with fury, he was icy, "I'm going to find the monster who hurt you, Serena, wherever he is, and I'm going to make him wish he was dead."

A shiver moved through her, because she believed him. It was in his face. His voice. In the energy he exuded and his sharply honed focus.

Serena pushed to her feet, "He's not worth the effort. Not worth your time."

"_You _are. You're worth it. Damn it. This is just- Who else knows?"

"Just Blair," she moved closer to the fireplace, needing the warmth, "There's also a money trail. Cops and reporters always follow the money. Someone may wonder why my mother left her second marriage with two million dollars, but her daughter from a previous relationship left with five."

Without looking, she felt his sudden stillness, "Of course," she went on, "that blood money's probably grown to considerably more than that now. I won't touch it, but Bart manages the brokerage account I dumped it in and everyone knows he has the Midas touch. It could all just come out and blow up in your face."

"Stop talking."

Serena turned to face him. She saw his face, his eyes. Saw the pity and horror. But it was what she _didn't _see that hurt the most.

It was her greatest nightmare realized. She'd feared that her past might negatively impact his attraction to her.

She'd told Blair that Nate might stay with her for all the wrong reasons. That he might stay by her side, but that she'd still- for all intents and purposes- lose him anyway.

And it seemed she had.


	13. Chapter 13

**Thank you for the reviews :) Hope you like it! *smut ahead* Cheers!**

* * *

Serena looked away, "I'm going to get dressed and go."

"What?" Nate glared, "Go where?"

"Home," she said, weary to the bone, "I think you need to digest all this."

His arms crossed, "We can do that together."

"I don't think we can," Her chin lifted, grief overwhelming her shame and heartrending disappointment, "Not while you're looking at me like you feel sorry for me."

"I'm not made of fucking stone, Serena. I wouldn't be human if I didn't care."

The emotions she'd run through since the party coalesced into a searing pain in her chest and a cleansing burst of anger, "I don't want your damn pity."

He shoved both hands through his hair, "What the hell do you want, then?"

"You! I want you."

"You have me. How many times do I have to tell you that?"

"Your words don't mean shit when you can't back them up. From the moment we met, you've been hot for me. You haven't been able to look at me without making it damn clear you want to fuck my brains out. And that's gone, Nate." Serena's eyes burned, "That look- it's gone."

"You can't be serious!" He stared at her as if she'd grown two heads.

"I don't think you know how your desire makes me feel," She hugged herself, suddenly feeling naked in the worst way, "It makes me feel beautiful. It makes me feel strong and alive. I- I can't bear to be with you if you don't feel that way about me anymore."

"Serena, I-" His voice faded into silence. He was hard-faced and distant, his fists clenched at his sides.

She loosened her grip on the towel and let it drop to the floor, "Look at me, Nate. Look at my body. It's the same one you couldn't get enough of a few hours ago. The same one you were so desperate to get into. If you don't want this anymore- if you don't get hard looking at it-"

Before she could get the words out, Nate lunged at her. Their mouths slid over each other as he lifted her to wrap her legs around his hips. He stumbled to the couch and fell, catching their combined weight with one outstretched hand. She sprawled beneath him, breathless and sobbing, while he slid to his knees on the floor and taunted her sex. He was rough and impatient, lacking the finesse she'd become used to, and Serena loved that he was. Loved it more when he levered over her and shoved his length into her.

She wasn't yet fully wet and the burn made her gasp, then his thumb was on her sex, rubbing in circles that had her hips churning.

"Ah," she moaned, raking her nails down his back. He wasn't icy anymore. He was on fire.

_ "Serena." _His mouth covered hers. He fisted her hair, holding her still as he lunged again and again, pounding hard and deep. He kicked off the armrest with one foot, powering into her, driving toward his orgasm with single-minded ferocity, "You're mine."

The harshness of his possessive litany drove her insane with lust. She felt herself quickening with every twinge of pain, felt her sex tightening with her growing arousal.

With a long, guttural groan he started coming, his flexing body quaking as he emptied himself inside her.

She held him as he climaxed, stroking his back, pressing kisses along his shoulder.

"Hold on," he said roughly, pushing his hands beneath her pressing her against him.

Nate pulled her up, and then sat down with her straddling his hips. She was slick from his orgasm, making it easy for him to push back inside her.

His hands brushed the hair away from her face then wiped her tears of relief. "I'm always hard for you, always hot for you. I'm always half-crazy with wanting you. If anything could change that, I would've done it before we got this far. Understand?"

Her hands wrapped around his wrists, "Yes."

"Now, show me that you still want _me _after that," His face was flushed and damp, his eyes dark and turbulent, "I need to know that losing control doesn't mean I've lost you."

Serena pulled his palms from her face and urged them down to her breasts. When he cupped them, she splayed her hands on his shoulders and rocked her hips. His fingers on her nipples, rolling and tugging, sent waves of pleasure through her, the gentle stimulation shooting to her core. When he urged her closer and took a hardened tip in his mouth she cried out, her body igniting with need for more.

Clenching her thighs, Serena lifted. She closed her eyes to focus on the way he felt as he slid out and then bit her lip at the way he stretched her sliding back in.

"That's it," Nate murmured, "Come for me. I need you to come riding me."

Rolling her hips, Serena relished the exquisite feel of him filling her so perfectly.

"Nate," she breathed, "Oh, yes."

"You're so beautiful," He gripped the back of her neck in one hand and her waist in the other, arching his hips to push a little deeper, "So sexy. I'm going to come for you again. That's what you do to me, Serena. It's never enough."

She whimpered as everything tightened, as the sweet tension built from the deep rhythmic strokes. She was panting and frantic, pumping her hips. Reaching between her legs, she rubbed her sex with the pads of her fingers, hastening her climax.

Nate gasped, his head thrown back into the sofa cushion, his neck corded with strain, "I feel you getting ready to come. Your get so hot and tight, so greedy."

His words and his voice pushed her over. She cried out when the first hard tremor hit her, then again as the orgasm rippled through her body, her sex spasming around Nate's steely erection.

Teeth grinding audibly, Nate held on until the clenches began to fade and then he clutched her hips aloft and pumped upward into her. Once, twice. On the third deep thrust, he growled her name and spurted hotly, laying the last of Serena's fears and doubts to rest.

* * *

They didn't realize how long they were sprawled on the couch like that, connected and close, her head on his shoulder and his hands caressing the curve of her spine.

Nate pressed his lips to her temple and murmured, "Stay."

"Yes."

He hugged her, "You're so brave, Serena. So strong and honest. You're a miracle."

"A miracle of modern therapy, maybe," she scoffed, her fingers playing in his luxuriant hair, "And even with that, I was really fucked up for a while and there are still some triggers I don't think I'll ever get past."

"God! The way I came on to you at the guild- I could've ruined us before we even got started. Now I understand why you need control," He shuddered and buried his face in her neck, "Serena, don't let me blow this. Don't let me chase you away."

Lifting her head, Serena searched his face. He was impossibly gorgeous. She had trouble taking it in at times. "You can't second guess everything you do or say to me because of Phil and what he did. It'll break us apart. It'll end us."

"Don't say that. Don't even think about it."

She smoothed his knit brow with strokes of her thumb.

"And what about your secrets, Nate?"

His face smoothed into an emotionless mask, "I started from scratch when I met you. Everything I thought I was, everything I thought I needed-" He shook his head. "We're figuring out who I am together. You're the only one who knows me."

But she didn't. Not really. She was figuring him out, learning him bit by bit.

"Serena, if you just tell me what you want-" He swallowed, "I can get better at this, if you give me the chance. Just don't- don't give up on me."

_ Jesus. _He could shred her so easily. A few words, a desperate look, and she was cut wide open.

"No secrets."

"No secrets?" Nate eyed her warily.

Serena nodded, unsure of herself and what she hoped to get out of him.

He exhaled harshly, "Okay."

In the bedroom, Serena lifted her new blue dress off the bed and hugged it to her, "You picked this out, Nate?"

"I did, yes. Do you like it?"

"It's beautiful," she smiled, "My mom always said you had excellent taste except for your preference for brunettes."

He glanced at her, "What brunettes?"

"Ooh, nicely done."


End file.
